


little wonders (twists and turns of fate)

by AlexiaBlackbriar13



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Coparenting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Exes, Exes Living Together, F/M, Fake Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Living Together, Month by Month Style, POV Felicity Smoak, Past Relationship(s), Post-Bunker Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Ultrasounds, Pregnant Felicity Smoak, Re-Written Canon Season 5 Episodes, Romantic Angst, Roommates, Season 5 AU, Season/Series 05, Slow Burn, Unplanned Pregnancy, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:50:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 87,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19436164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13
Summary: Oliver and Felicity's drunken mistake of a hook-up in the bunker comes with unexpected consequences in the form of a... souvenir.Deciding to remain romantically uninvolved, the two of them will have to battle all the trials and tribulations of maintaining a platonic relationship while Felicity is pregnant and the two of them are living together, coping with all the emotional baggage that they both bring to the table - and dealing with the fact that they are still very much in love with each other, but scarred by the events that broke them apart in the first place.





	1. August

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! All of you have been very patient waiting for me to begin posting this fic, and thank you very much for all your support and encouragement.
> 
> There have been several people who prompted me before to write a 5x20 bunker sex AU where Felicity ended up pregnant after, and I finally caved because of Sam ([@ghostfoxlovely](https://twitter.com/ghostfoxlovely)) who has cheerleaded and beta'd for this. Thank you, Sam!
> 
> Also a huge, massive thanks to the incredible Nelly ([@felicitymqueen](https://twitter.com/felicitymqueen)) for making some wonderful covers for the fic, which will be revealed as chapters are posted. She's so talented and skilled and it was such a pleasure to work with her!
> 
> I've been told by Calli that this technically counts as filling the bunker sex prompt for the Olicity Summer Sizzle, lol.
> 
> This chapter is the shortest one of all of them, seeing as its a sort of prologue - they're all between 4k and 8k words. This fic will be updated weekly, every Monday. Usually around 8/9PM London time. xx
> 
> EDIT: YES, Susan Williams is tagged, but she only appears briefly in Chapter 2 and is in no way romantically involved with Oliver. Billy also makes an 'appearance' in one of the chapters, but doesn't even meet Felicity. Olicity is the main ship in this fic!

* * *

It’s a Tuesday in August, in the middle of an unusual Star City heatwave, and the day marking six months since she and Oliver broke up their engagement and their relationship.

And Felicity Smoak is sitting on the floor of her bathroom with seven positive pregnancy tests lined up in front of her.

The tests are just to try and get her head around it all. Dr Schwartz called her that morning to inform her that her bloodwork does not indicate she’s anemic, as Felicity thought; she is, in fact, six weeks pregnant.

She’s sobbing silently, her knees drawn up to her chest and tears dampening her leggings. But she’s not crying from happiness. Instead of shock and elation, she feels fear and dread. Because there’s only one man who could possibly be the father - and it’s not the guy she’s been dating for the last three weeks.

Her and Oliver’s drunken mistake of a hook-up in the bunker has left her with a souvenir in the form of a baby.

She spends the morning alternating between being overwhelmed with rage and drowned out by horror, trying to figure out what to do. If this were any other guy, Felicity would have absolutely no idea how to move forward. But this is _Oliver_. Despite the fact they’re broken up, they’re still good friends and partners. Felicity knows, deep down in her heart, that Oliver Queen is a good man and will do everything in his power to support her with this pregnancy the moment he knows about it. Other options beyond keeping the baby flit across Felicity’s mind, of course, but are quickly dismissed. She’s only known about the tiny life growing inside her for a couple of hours, and yet she already knows that abortion or adoption aren’t in the wheelhouse for her.

So there’s only really one option for her.

And there’s absolutely no way she’s going to be able to keep this a secret from Oliver. The archer is capable of basic math; he would very quickly work out the date of the baby’s conception and figure out that he’s the father.

She has to tell him.

And, in all honesty, Felicity wants to tell Oliver. The concept of raising this baby alone is one that terrifies her. She knows from what her mother has told her that being a single mother is difficult and not fun, and since she doesn’t exactly have a secure job or income at the moment and is basically living off her hefty Palmer Tech severance pay, she can’t even begin to imagine how she would provide a healthy, safe life for a baby. She barely feels mentally stable these days; Havenrock shook her to her core and she’s still recovering from her paralysis. Oliver is the only person she truly trusts at the moment. He might have lied to her and broken her heart, but he’s always remained by her side even at the darkest of times, and Felicity feels safe around and with him.

Oliver will at least be a _present_ father. He might even be a great one.

Felicity knows that Oliver is working in his office at City Hall today, and knows that he usually takes his lunch breaks between one and two pm. That would be a better time to confront and inform him about this rather than at the bunker later on, as Curtis will be joining them for system upgrades in the evening. She doesn’t really want anybody else to know about the pregnancy yet - not until she’s had the first scan and the risk of miscarriage is much lower. 

She gathers up the pregnancy tests in a plastic bag and hides them in her purse, and then as an afterthought, prints out the emailed copy of her blood tests from Dr Schwartz, just in case Oliver needs more definitive proof. Walking the six blocks from the Loft to City Hall sounds pretty appealing as it will give Felicity the time to gather her courage, so she sets off with a good half an hour to spare. A vanilla latte - decaf, because now she’s pregnant she needs to keep an eye on her caffeine consumption - helps calm the writhing ball of anxiety in the pit of her stomach.

Oliver’s assistant, a lovely young man called Sam, recognizes Felicity instantly the moment she approaches the office. He waves at her and allows her straight in, asking if she can drop some files off to the mayor for him so he doesn’t have to disturb Oliver while he’s on his lunch break. Felicity tucks the papers under her arm and stands in front of the closed office door separating her and Oliver for a moment, steeling herself. She can feel the weight of Sam’s curious yet confused gaze on her back, and the prickling feeling of being observed is what finally gives Felicity the strength to knock, waiting for Oliver to shout for her to come in before entering.

Oliver looks up with surprise when she strides in, quickly closing the door behind her. “Felicity. Hi. Is everything okay?”

He looks impeccable in a crisp navy blue suit and red tie, sitting behind his mayoral office desk. It’s almost unfair how attractive he appears. Swallowing, Felicity decides not to beat around the bush. She’s going to pass out from her nerves if she even makes an attempt at small talk with Oliver. She passes over the files from Sam, which Oliver takes with a grateful expression, and then reaches into her purse to collect the bag of pregnancy tests.

The expression on Oliver’s face as she dumps it in front of him would be priceless if he didn’t stop breathing and turn as white as a sheet almost instantly.

A heavy, uncomfortable blanket of stunned silence settles over the room. Felicity bites her lip as she watches Oliver’s panicked eyes flit between the pregnancy tests, her flat stomach and then up to her face. She can see he has a thousand questions just from the sheer intensity of his gaze, and she knows that she’s not going to have the answers to all of them.

Oliver slowly reaches out to activate his intercom and says in a scarily calm voice, not breaking eye contact with Felicity, “Hi, Sam. Could you please cancel my 3pm meeting and reschedule it for tomorrow, please? A pressing personal matter has come up that I need to handle immediately. Thank you.” He waits for a response, thanks his assistant again, and then returns to staring at Felicity in silence.

“I’m pregnant,” she tells him, although she’s pretty certain he’s figured that out by now.

He nods. “The seven pregnancy tests did sort of hint towards that, yeah.”

There’s a question in his voice about why she did so many, so Felicity toes at the office floor, feeling slightly sheepish as she says, “Google said to do multiple, just in case of false positives.”

“How far along are you?”

“Six weeks. Um. I actually only did the pregnancy tests after I got blood test results from Dr Schwartz and she told me. Not that I got the blood test done because I thought I was pregnant. I thought I was anemic. I’m not. If you cared about that. And if you’re wondering why I did the pregnancy tests even though I already knew I was pregnant, it’s because I wanted an actual, visible, clear positive indicator. The blood test just gave hCG levels, not an actual yes, no, definitive pregnancy result. But - yeah, I have those papers here.”

She fishes them out of her bag, her fingers trembling, but struggles to flatten out the folded pages. Felicity freezes when Oliver stands and carefully makes his way around his desk as if he’s approaching a startled wild animal, so he’s directly in front of her. His warm hands wrap around her shaking ones, squeezing gently in a small gesture of reassurance, before he takes the paperwork from her, beginning to read. He glances up at her again, narrowing his eyes. 

Felicity knows what he’s asking. “Um, conception would have occurred four weeks ago.”

There’s a spark of realization in Oliver’s eyes. “The bunker?”

“Yes,” she affirms, her voice no louder than a whisper.

“... Are you sure?”

She peers down at the floor. “We were in a committed relationship for nearly a year, Oliver. I’ve only gone out for dinner twice with the guy I’m dating right now - the guy I was dating, because I guess I’ll be breaking up with him considering all of this - and we’ve never made it past first base. Plus, I did the calculations; my cycles are fairly regular, I had the blood test results, and - it was definitely that night in the bunker. I’m sure.”

Oliver goes quiet again, scanning her blood test results. Felicity shifts nervously on her feet, wondering what precisely he’s thinking and feeling. He’s put up one of those awful masks to hide his emotions, and although she used to be able to see past them quite easily to gauge his real feelings when they were together, the archer has changed to a new set of veils now that she has trouble permeating through.

“How do you feel about all of this?” he finally asks. There’s no judgment in his tone, much to her relief. Just frank curiosity and a hint of worry.

“Honestly? Er. A little stupid.” She flushes when Oliver’s eyebrows shoot up.

“How come?”

“I stand by I what I said - our night together in the bunker was a mistake and it never should have happened.” The archer flinches at that, but she pushes on despite his devastated and hurt expression. “I wasn’t on birth control. We didn’t use condoms. We were drunk, but that’s really no excuse. We’ve always practiced safe sex and we didn’t that night. I knew the next day that there was a possibility - I should have taken the morning after pill, but I didn’t think it would be necessary. So yeah. Stupid.”

Oliver’s lips twitch in the beginnings of a sad smile. “You’re not stupid, Felicity. You could never be stupid. But really, how are you feeling?”

Crossing her arms over her chest guardedly, Felicity asks incredulously, “How am I feeling? How are you feeling?”

“My feelings about this are far less important than yours.” The archer sets her with a serious look. “You’re going to be a mom.”

Her heart skips a beat, hearing that. It’s something that’s been lurking at the back of her mind ever since the phone call from the hospital, but hearing it aloud? That she’s going to be a mother? It’s completely different. “And you’re going to be a dad!” she counters. “Again! But this time, to an actual infant, not a secret twelve-year-old.”

Oliver jolts, a flurry of guilt, distress, elation, and amazement passing over his face before he clams up again. Felicity winces; that was a low blow, bringing up William. He extends his hand and rests it on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing gentle, soothing circles just above her collarbone. Felicity relaxes minutely, focusing back on him. 

Oliver’s voice is soft as he says, “But your body is yours and yours alone, and you are the only person who gets to make decisions regarding it.”

Wiping at her eyes, which are becoming suspiciously itchy, Felicity hesitantly places her palm over the lapels of Oliver’s suit jacket, smoothing them down. “You must have an opinion about all of this, Oliver.” She pauses before adding in a murmur, “It’s your baby too.”

She feels rather than hears Oliver’s breath hitch, his chest jerking beneath his hand. He takes a brief second to compose himself before speaking. “I do have an opinion. Of course I do. But I presume you’re not planning to abort or adopt out, because if you were, I doubt you would have told me about this. That’s the only critical thing I’ve been considering in the last three minutes; I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re pregnant with our child.” He waits again, giving her a good moment to run that over in her brain. _Our child_. Jesus. Felicity did not think she would be hearing those words when she woke up so blissfully unaware of what’s happening in her uterus this morning. “So… how are you feeling?”

Felicity shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant on the outside, because internally she’s going insane due to the turbulent emotional storm lashing at her rational thought processing. “I don’t know. Shocked. Afraid. Unprepared. Apprehensive.” She stops fleetingly, battling to admit with reluctance, “Excited.”

This time, Oliver actually smiles. It’s a small one, but it’s tender and genuine. He offers his arms out and Felicity has never stepped so eagerly into a hug in her life. Oliver’s body is firm and warm, and wrapped in his embrace, Felicity is finally able to release every pent up shred of tension trapped inside her, sinking into him. Her head tucked beneath the archer’s, she curls her fingers into his jacket until she’s grasping onto it like a lifeline, closing her eyes as she submits to her tears. Oliver, ever the gentleman, doesn’t seem to care that she’s started crying on him. He just rubs her back comfortingly, following the length of her spine until his hand settles in the small of her back.

“So what are we going to do?” Felicity questions, once she’s pulled away from him and taking a seat in the chair in front of Oliver’s desk, while Oliver returns to his own. “I mean - I sort of just assumed you’d want to be a part of this. If I did so wrongly, feel free to tell me to leave now, because I won’t drag you into this if you don’t -”

“I want to be a part of this, Felicity,” Oliver cuts her off strongly. “We might not be together romantically, but we are still best friends, and I would like to help you raise our child. We can co-parent. That’s what I want. Of course, it all depends on whether or not that’s something that _you_ want.”

“Oliver, if you want to have an active role in our baby’s life, I’m not going to deny you that. And it’s a big reassurance to me that I won’t have to do this alone,” she confesses. “I’m obviously not ready for this. Now I have to be. With you… I don’t know, I think this will be a lot easier.” 

“Hey.” He squeezes her shoulder. “Not that it really matters in this instance, but I think you would do great as a single parent, if you tried to be. You’re an amazing person, Felicity. All single parents are brave, and incredibly resilient. You are already both those things. You’re the bravest person I know.”

“That can’t be true.”

“No, it definitely is,” Oliver inclines his head. “You’re the strongest person I know, as well.”

Coming from somebody who Felicity regards as the bravest and strongest person in her life, that’s a huge compliment, and she ducks her head to hide her grin, tucking a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear shyly. “Getting back to your original point, the people who are single parents are inspiring,” Felicity agrees. “But that’s not something I need to worry about, if you’re going to take an active parenting role.” Taking a deep breath, she leans back and questions, “So how are we going to do this? Just… act as we usually do? Do you want to move back into the Loft? I know you’re sleeping down in the bunker’s quarters right now.”

Oliver grimaces, remembering his living situation. “I’ve been looking for an apartment, but I suppose… living with you in the Loft would make everything much more efficient. There are three bedrooms - one for you, one for me, and one for the baby. If I’m your roommate, I can cook for you and make sure that you’re eating well, taking prenatal vitamins and looking after yourself.”

“I’m not entirely hopeless without a man around the house, you know,” she huffs, slightly offended at the implication that she needs Oliver around to feed her. Sure, she’s not eating five-star gourmet meals every night anymore, but Kraft mac’n’cheese isn’t that bad, and she snacks on cucumber and carrot sticks with hummus instead of chips most days, a habit ingrained into her from when Oliver used to berate and withhold sex from her for only eating junk. “But yes, I will admit, it would be nice to have your homemade pizza and lasagne being cooked for me every week again.”

“And my salads and grilled vegetables?” he raises an eyebrow.

She smiles at him innocently. “I’ll kill you if you force me to eat lettuce when I start to crave carbs.”

He laughs. “You don’t know for sure you’ll be craving carbs.”

“It’s _me_. I’ll consider it a betrayal by my body if I start craving healthy things. The best part about pregnancy is craving junk food.” She blushes. “Which I know from what I’ve read on the internet. Not from experience. I don’t have a secret kid or anything. Oh god. Forget I said that. I can already tell my brain-to-mouth filter is on the fritz, it’s probably going to completely break down as this pregnancy continues. I apologize in advance for anything rude, suggestive or mean I might say to you.”

“You know I don’t mind your babbling, Felicity,” Oliver responds, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Okay, so the living situation - and cooking situation - is sorted. What about doctor’s appointments?”

Felicity peers over at him cautiously. “Do you want to come to the appointments with me?”

“Yes,” Oliver replies, just as cautious.

“All right. You come to the appointments with me then. I, um…” She trails her fingertips over the edge of the desk. “I don’t think we should tell anybody about the baby… not until after the first ultrasound. Until we’re sure everything’s okay.”

“Sounds good to me,” the archer agrees.

Oliver is really taking this in his stride. Felicity can’t help but remember the conversations they had just after their bunker escapades four weeks ago; the Oliver back then had been holding out hope for them to talk about the circumstances of their break-up, to discuss a potential future for them both. Living together again, with a baby on the way… “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with this?” she blurts out.

Startled, Oliver tilts his head. “Why… wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just - you know, the whole platonic co-parenting and living together situation… our relationship before we broke up was serious, I mean I’m pretty sure it was since we were engaged, and when you were imagining having a kid with me - _if_ you ever imagined it, I’m not trying to say that you have, and if you ever did, I’m not going to be like, angry about that or whatever - you were probably imagining us being, ya know, married and living happily in a picket fence neighborhood with pets and your hood and bow hung up in the closet -”

“Felicity,” Oliver interrupts her sharply. His expression has shuttered, and his tone has turned strangely cold and hard. His blue eyes are piercing. “I am not going to use your pregnancy and this set of circumstances to try and pressure you into getting back together with me. I would never do that.”

Her eyes widen. Felicity suddenly feels awful because god, was that really what she’d been implying Oliver was attempting? “No, no, I don’t think that you would,” she splutters. “That’s not what I’m trying to say.”

“Then what are you trying to say?” Oliver’s shoulders slump, some of his defensiveness leaching out of him, leaving him appearing tired.

“I - I was just acknowledging that I realize that this is going to be hard,” she says, her voice small. “For both of us. Emotionally speaking. Considering everything that’s happened. And I wanted to let you know that if you need, I don’t know, _space_ to think over this and clear your head… I understand. You can take a few days, Oliver. A few _weeks_ , if you want to. Pregnancies always start off really boring; nothing exciting happens until the symptoms and side effects kick in, and, well, exciting isn’t the best choice of word to describe morning sickness and cravings.”

Oliver bends across his desk to rest his hand on top of hers. An affectionate gleam has returned to his exhausted eyes as he responds, “Thank you, Felicity. But really, I would feel much better being there for you, and the baby, throughout this entire pregnancy. I want to be with you for everything - even the boring stuff. I’ll hold back your hair if you get morning sickness, and make 2am trips to the grocery store to provide for your cravings. I want all of that.”

She softens. “Oliver…”

“I will always care about you, Felicity, and I will always take care of you. No matter what has happened between us, or what will happen.” He smiles. “I promise.”

Heat flushing her cheeks, Felicity doesn’t know how to respond to that beyond an admittance of _I love you too_ , but thankfully doesn’t have to construct a reply as Oliver’s intercom buzzes, with Sam announcing that Councilman Webster urgently needs to speak to him about the amendments to a planned parenthood protection bill. The archer sighs, shooting Felicity a look that informs her that this is indeed important, and can’t be postponed.

Stuffing the bag of pregnancy tests into her purse and collecting up her blood test papers, Felicity tells him quickly, “Well, feel free to move back into the Loft whenever you want. You still have your keys, after all. I’ll, um, see you at the bunker for your patrol tonight?”

“Yes, right.” Oliver hastily stands, buttoning his suit jacket. “I would… love to talk about all this some more later as well, when we have the opportunity.” His eyes are straying down to her belly again and Felicity quirks an eyebrow when he turns slightly red at being caught. “You’ll let me know if you need anything? Anything at all.”

“I will,” she nods.

“And I mean for both the baby _and_ for you,” he adds. “You can call me any time. And if you can’t reach my cell, you can call the office. I’ll tell Sam to put through every single one of your calls to me, even if I’m busy.”

Felicity snorts, stepping back as Oliver moves to open the door for her. “I don’t think your assistant is going to like it if I’m interrupting your meeting because I’m - I don’t know, craving your Monte Cristo sandwiches.”

“He’ll have to learn to,” Oliver grins teasingly.

She halts in the doorway, hesitating to leave. “Um. Oliver?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” she says, with a shy smile. “For, um. Reacting so well. And being so supportive. I really appreciate it.”

Oliver’s smile grows larger and he nods in acceptance of her gratitude. “See you later, Felicity.”


	2. September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow guys!!! i was blown away by the amount of support i received for the first chapter - thank you so much, and i'm so happy to hear you're all excited for what's to come!
> 
> i hope you enjoy this next chapter. there's quite a bit of oliver angst which i know you all enjoy!
> 
> once again, massive thanks to sam for cheerleading and beta-ing for me, and a huge thanks to nelly ([@felicitymqueen](https://twitter.com/felicitymqueen)) for the beautiful covers she's made for the fic. i'm so glad that you all love them so far :)

* * *

Felicity has been extremely fortunate so far in her pregnancy to not experience any morning sickness. At nine weeks now, the biggest symptoms and side effects she’s been getting are fatigue, indigestion, and some slight breast tenderness. After a very late night spent in the bunker with Oliver, she wakes up grumpily feeling even more tired than she did when actually falling asleep last night.

“Seriously wearing me out, little one,” she mumbles, resting her hand over her stomach. There’s no real hint of a bump forming yet, but according to Dr Schwartz, she won’t have to wait much longer. “Just want to sleep for ten years.”

“I’m pretty sure sleeping for ten years counts as a coma.”

She rolls over, blearily peering over at her bedroom door. Oliver is standing in the doorway with a tray that appears to have breakfast on it for her. It smells absolutely delicious. Felicity groans and makes grabby hands. “Hungry.”

“That would be because you forgot to eat the salad I left for you in the bunker fridge last night,” Oliver sighs. “You know, I think I’m more anxious about your health now living with you as a roommate than I was when I was living with you as your boyfriend.”

“That is because I am carrying your spawn this time around,” Felicity points out. She scoots up against the backboard of her bed - what used to be _their_ bed - licking her lips as Oliver places the tray on her lap. He’s made her a huge omelet with extra cheese and jalapeños just as she said she enjoyed yesterday.

“Please don’t call our baby our ‘spawn’,” Oliver sighs.

“What would you prefer? Offspring? Sproglet? Bundle of joy? Brood?” She snorts. “Proof of copulation?”

The archer shoots her a fond yet exasperated look. “Baby, child, or kid will do just fine, thank you.”

“Interesting how you’re okay with calling them a baby goat and not spawn.”

“Better a baby goat than something fish or frogs release as eggs,” he counters.

Felicity tilts her head. “Touché.”

Oliver is and has been the perfect roommate this last month. He’s become essentially her doting platonic boyfriend. He’s picked back up the little domestic things he used to do around the house when they lived together as romantic partners; stacking the dishes, fluffing the couch pillows, replacing towels and much more. He cooks and bakes for Felicity, and they spend their evenings when they’re not at the bunker together at the Loft as well, binging TV shows. The only real difference is the fact that Oliver tries to maintain a three-foot distance from her at all times, barely touches her anymore and sleeps in a guest room.

Sometimes, Felicity feels bad for him. She catches him wistfully watching her from the other side of the couch when they’re watching movies, and she can almost feel his longing to join her for cuddles underneath her blanket. Felicity can’t deny that she’s experienced the same yearning. But she and Oliver are not together, nor will they be in the near future. That, she is certain of. Everything that happened with William cut her deep, and although Felicity is close to forgiving Oliver for it all, she can’t put it all behind her, because she’s aware of what it all signifies; Oliver doesn’t trust her. She’s sure that he never will. It doesn’t matter that she’s carrying his child. Oliver will never truly open up to her in the way she wants him to. And because of that, she can’t fully trust him.

“What are you doing today?” he asks her, startling her from her thoughts. Leaning against the doorframe, the archer watches her with amusement as Felicity scarfs down the eggs, only pausing in her eating to take swigs of the fresh orange juice he’s also brought her.

Felicity shrugs. “Was going to stay at home. I’ve got that coding project to work on for Lyla, but I haven’t got anything else planned.”

“Sounds good,” Oliver nods. “Well, I’m off to City Hall. I’ve got a live interview on Channel 52 with some reporter called Susan Williams at eleven. I’m really looking forward to it.” His sarcasm makes Felicity choke mid-bite and she tries, but fails, to stifle her snickers behind her hand. “Laugh all you want, Felicity. You can watch it, if you want. Enjoy my suffering from the safety of the couch.”

“Oh, I am absolutely going to do that,” she flashes him a winning smile. “Want me to look into this Susan Williams for you?”

He shakes his head. “No, I think she’s clean. Thank you for the offer, though.”

“Have fun, then.”

“I’ll try. Remember, lunch is in the fridge. Caesar salad wraps, with whole-wheat tortillas.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Whole-wheat? Really?”

“You need the extra fiber. I’ll throw out your chocolates if you don’t eat at least one of the wraps. Yes, that is an actual threat. I’ll see you later.”

Felicity half-glares at him as he leaves, because how dare he threaten to trash her favorite chocolates, and waits until she hears the front door close and lock behind Oliver before vaulting out of bed. She’s only finished half of her omelet so carries it into the kitchen with her, finishing it off as she brews coffee. When Oliver is at home with her, he won’t let her anywhere near caffeinated beverages, despite the fact that Felicity has provided him with multiple scientific studies and papers about how one cup of coffee in the morning has been proven to be beneficial for pregnant women. She has her own hidden coffee supply now, although she suspects that Oliver has mixed some decaf into it.

She sets up her laptop at the kitchen table and works on her coding until she’s drained her coffee cup, at which point Felicity changes out of her pajamas into casual clothes. By the time 11am comes around, the blonde is tired enough to want a nap, but committed to watching Oliver’s live interview.

Channel 52 on the TV screen, Felicity collapses onto the couch with a packet of corn chips and her cell phone. Oliver’s interview begins, and she can immediately tell he’s nervous by the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and his shoulders are tensed. Susan Williams starts off by asking him some questions about general work being done by City Hall, and new legislations he’s putting into place. Oliver sounds confident and calm as he answers succinctly. This Susan Williams woman is being blunt and quite rude in her questioning, but the archer doesn’t let it anger or annoy him, just deciding to be equally as cold in return.

Felicity ends up tuning out the political talk, electing to instead check the updates on her pregnancy tracking app so she can send the facts to Oliver. The two of them have downloaded different apps so they can get different information every week, and they exchange screenshots to see how the particulars vary.

“And how would you like to comment on the rumors that Mayor Handsome has recently been taken out of the dating pool, six months after breaking up with your fiancée?”

The question is phrased so slyly and suggestively that Felicity has to look up, raising her eyebrows.

On screen, Oliver glowers at Susan Williams. Although his expression mostly remains blank, Felicity recognizes it as his _I want to stab you in your sleep_ look. “I would prefer not to comment at all,” the archer says, his voice flat. “Since they are just rumors, as you said.”

“Ah, so it wouldn’t be true that you’ve moved back into the apartment you and Felicity Smoak, your ex, have shared since returning to Starling City last fall?” Susan Williams asks. “And are now back to living with Miss Smoak?”

Ice spreads through Felicity’s veins. She and Oliver have been so careful over the last month to make sure that nobody figures out that they’re back living together at the Loft again. If Susan Williams, a Channel 52 reporter, knows of those kind of rumors, there’s no telling how many other people know. She has alerts on for her and Oliver’s names online, but there hasn’t been anything unusual recently - just the normal articles about Oliver’s mayoral work, and a couple of business and tech blogs discussing Felicity’s disappearance from the Palmer Tech scene, wondering where she’s going to turn up next. Oh god. What if they know about the baby? What if there’s gossip spreading around about Felicity being secretly pregnant? The blonde places her hand over her flat stomach protectively, swallowing back the nausea that’s bubbling in her abdomen.

Oliver’s response to the reporter is excruciatingly sharp, and his voice is deadly. “I told you before beginning this interview with you that I would not be discussing my personal life in any capacity, Mrs Williams. Consider this my last correspondence with Channel 52 while you are on their staff, as you clearly cannot respect set boundaries.” Then Oliver turns to the cameraman, quirks an eyebrow and orders shortly, “Cut the cameras, please.”

It takes a good minute for Felicity to pick her jaw up off the floor. The news anchors on screen in the main studio appear incredibly flustered and struggle to get back on topic after the interview ends abruptly. Well then. Felicity fully expects that Susan Williams will be unemployed at the end of the day, because Oliver completely decimated her. She never would have thought the archer would be that frank to a reporter, especially in a live interview, but she’s been pleasantly shocked.

Switching off the TV, she returns to her coding project, relaxing with her feet up on the couch. Felicity completely loses track of time. Often when she concentrates on writing new algorithms, she slips into a strange dissociative state where the world passes on by without her being aware of anything happening around her while she’s typing. She’s only snapped back into the present, her head feeling fuzzy, when the doorbell rings.

Vaulting off the couch, Felicity pads over to the front door, suspiciously checking through the peephole at who her visitor is. For whatever reason, she thinks it might be Oliver, so rears back in surprise when she sees it’s Oliver’s personal assistant, Samuel, looking entirely out of his element and uncomfortable in front of her door.

“Sam! Hi,” she greets him, trying not to let her confusion leak into her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Mayor Queen sent me over,” Sam says. “He would like to speak to you after his… disastrous interview this morning, but the only free time he has to call you is after 3pm. So instead you get me. Delivering Big Belly Burger onion rings and fries with an Oreo milkshake. And also reminding you to eat the -” he glances down at his hand, where he’s written apparent instructions from Oliver on his palm, “- Caesar salad wraps in the fridge.”

“Oliver sent you here to deliver me food and remind me to eat wraps?” Felicity asks incredulously. “I’m pretty sure that’s not in the personal assistant job description.”

Sam shrugs. “He offered to pay me overtime.”

Felicity nods, observing the man carefully. She can see that Sam really doesn’t know what he’s doing here or why Oliver is making him do errands for his roommate. Suddenly realizing that Sam might be getting the wrong impression, she tells him, “You know Oliver and I aren’t romantically involved, right?”

“That’s… not really any of my business, Miss Smoak.” He smiles politely.

“Yeah, I suppose, but we’re not. In case you were wondering. Oliver and I aren’t together. We’re just… living together. Out of convenience.” Felicity grimaces when Sam nods again. He likely doesn’t believe her. “Sam, can you be honest with me? The rumors about Oliver and I being back together… how bad are they? How many people at City Hall think they’re true?”

“... A good proportion of the staff, Miss Smoak,” Sam admits. “And I wouldn’t say they’re bad rumors. From everything I have heard, I can tell you they’re mostly harmless speculation. Mayor Queen was particularly aggrieved when Mrs Williams brought you up in the interview. He was aware that you would be watching and… well…” He lifts the Big Belly Burger take-out bag up to show it to her, passing it over.

“This is his way of apologizing if I got upset over it. I get it. Thank you, Sam. I’ll put a good word in for you with Oliver and ask him to give you some extra vacation days.”

“That’s very kind of you, Miss Smoak. Thank you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You too.”

Felicity forces herself to eat one of the salad wraps for lunch since Oliver was thoughtful enough to send Sam over with fries, onion rings, and a milkshake. She takes a photo of her empty plate as well as the empty take-out containers to send to the archer with the caption _thank you! you should give sam a raise_. He responds back in less than a second with a smiley face emoji that makes Felicity shake her head, grinning.

Oliver does call at 3pm as Sam told her he would. “So you saw the interview?” he asks, the moment she answers the line.

“I did. You handled Susan Williams with all your usual grace and eloquence,” she teases.

Huffing a laugh, Oliver tells her, “She’s been fired. Channel 52 took less than ten minutes to email me saying Williams has been terminated.” He pauses. His voice softens and Oliver sounds much more uncertain and nervous as he asks, “Did you… know? About the rumors?”

“No,” she answers, honestly. “I asked Sam about them, though. Apparently, a lot of your employees think we’re back together romantically.” When Oliver doesn’t respond straight away, Felicity rubs her eyes. “I’m not angry, if that’s what you’re worried about. I knew that something like this would happen eventually; I knew that we wouldn’t be able to keep our living situation a secret for long, and we’re not going to be able to keep the pregnancy a secret forever. We definitely won’t be able to hide the baby. I just always thought that it would be revealed on our terms. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of your security guys leaked to the media that you’re back living here. I can look into it more deeply when you get back tonight.”

Oliver sounds relieved. “That would be great, thank you, Felicity. I’ll probably stop off for groceries on my way home, so is there anything you’d like me to pick up for you? For cravings, snacking on or otherwise?”

“Haven’t been getting any cravings yet,” Felicity sighs. “But some mint chip ice cream would be divine. I can pay you back, of course.”

“No need.” He lowers the tone and volume of his voice to add, “It’s my baby you’re carrying, after all… If they want ice cream, you’ll get your ice cream.”

“You are aware that although the baby is nine weeks, they’re still barely two and a half centimeters long and have only just started forming vital organs. They can’t really want anything yet.”

“Nine weeks.” Oliver exhales, his breathing static through the phone line. “Hard to process that you’re already so far into this pregnancy, huh?”

“I think we’ve been managing pretty well, so far.” Felicity smiles, rubbing her hand over her stomach fondly. “We make a great team.”

“We always have,” the archer agrees. “I have to go now - another meeting - but I’ll be back around six.”

The rest of Felicity’s afternoon is uneventful, but productive. She completes the coding program for Lyla, uploading and activating the security features to run simulations, and then sending it to Curtis for him to look over. She’s got pregnancy brain at the moment so even after picking over the code several times over, it’s possible she might miss a couple of smaller mistakes that Curtis might be able to spot for her.

Leaving the program in her friend’s capable hands, Felicity decides to give in to her exhaustion and take a nap. There are already slight black bags under her eyes as she’s been struggling to get proper sleep due to weirdly vivid dreams over the last week, and she knows that Oliver will only worry after her if she appears tired this evening when he gets back. He’s just as attentive to her needs now, as her platonic best friend and roommate, as he was when he was her fiancé. Drawing the curtains in the living room, Felicity curls up with her favorite green blanket on the couch cushions, setting an alarm for an hour. She falls asleep quickly and thankfully, doesn’t end up dreaming at all, instead resting peacefully.

She’s woken not by her alarm, but by soft murmuring from across the room. Rolling over, Felicity peers blearily out the Loft’s windows; the curtains have been drawn back to reveal the setting sun and an encroaching darkness. Her phone informs her that it’s nearly 8pm. Oliver must have switched off her alarm when he got home. He’s currently sitting at the kitchen table on his laptop, and seeing as he’s talking quietly and smiling at the screen, it’s likely that he’s Skyping John. John is currently working back in the special forces, seeking penance after everything that happened with his brother, but always makes time to contact Oliver and Felicity when he’s off duty. There’s the wonderful scent of Bolognese sauce and seared meat permeating the air, making Felicity’s mouth water, so she guesses that Oliver is halfway through making dinner for them both.

Oliver doesn’t seem to have realized she’s woken up and as Felicity isn’t quite ready to get up yet - she’ll need to properly stretch out her aching spine first - she decides to stay supine on the couch and listen to his and John’s conversation. It is eavesdropping? Yes. It is a breach of privacy? Possibly. But Oliver wouldn’t be having his Skype talk with John in their living room if he didn’t mind her overhearing.

“ - should have kept a better watch on the media,” Oliver is saying, sounding resigned. “You have no idea how awful I felt knowing that Felicity was here at home watching that interview today. I’ve been trying to keep it on the down low that we’re back living together but… I failed.”

“You must have known this would happen eventually, Oliver,” John replies. His voice is sympathetic, but Felicity can almost hear his raised eyebrow. “Those vultures have been obsessed with your and Felicity’s relationship since the very beginning.”

“I thought that…”

“You thought what?”

“I don’t know. I naively thought that maybe since Felicity and I aren’t together anymore, they wouldn’t be as interested in us or our personal lives. I guess I was wrong.”

“Dead wrong,” John sighs. “The fact that you’re not in a relationship but still living together is only going to create more interest. Why is that, by the way? You still haven’t given me a genuine answer.”

A flicker of unease ripples through Felicity’s stomach and she clenches her jaw shut, as she thinks for a moment that Oliver might tell their best friend about the baby. They’ve agreed not to tell anybody until after the first ultrasound, but John isn’t just anybody. Felicity doesn’t want anyone at all to know, and that includes their closest friends, but Oliver might feel differently.

“I’ve already told you, John, it’s mostly just for convenience and security reasons,” Oliver replies, causing Felicity to exhale in relief. “The Loft is perfectly situated between the bunker and City Hall and has enough space for Felicity and me to have separate bedrooms and stay out of each other’s way most of the time. Not that we’d _want_ to stay out of each other’s way - we’re still friends, and partners.”

John emits a faint noise of understanding and agreement, but then adds, “Just not partners in the manner you want to be.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Oliver, you look like you’re stabbing yourself every time you emphasize the fact that you and Felicity aren’t together anymore. You’re still in love with her, man. Completely head over heels in love with her. And you’re still holding out hope that something can be rekindled.”

Oliver doesn’t say anything. Felicity’s heart skips a beat in her chest.

“You’re not even going to begin to deny it, are you?”

“What do you want me to say, John?” Oliver says, his voice choked with pain. “I’ve been in love with Felicity for four years now, and I’m always going to be in love with her. That’s never going to change. Of course I’m clinging to those last shreds of hope that there might still be a chance of something igniting again between us. But for that to happen, we need to talk about what went wrong last time. Felicity has made it completely and absolutely clear to me that she is not ready for that yet.” He pauses, and then continues in an even more defeated tone, “She says that I don’t trust her, and that she doesn’t know why, and I don’t know why. She can’t love me again until I figure that out. I know I’ve never been worthy of her love, John, and now, after everything that has happened… I don’t think I ever will be. No matter what happens, what the two of us do, or who we become.”

Either Felicity has spontaneously started to experience morning sickness - but in the evenings - or she’s feeling nauseous simply listening to Oliver pour his heart out to John. She’s seen the archer at his most vulnerable moments before, but in this instance, it’s different. She feels guilty. Because she is the main cause of his distress. It’s her fault Oliver is feeling so downhearted. She feels that desperate tug at her heart, wanting to go and comfort him, but she can’t. Oliver would not be receptive to her at this moment. It kills her to hear him speaking about himself in such a derogatory way. He truly does believe that he’s not worthy of being loved because of everything that has happened. Her harsh words after their bunker sex have remained with him for months, and have made an impact on him that Felicity never would have anticipated.

John groans. Felicity imagines him rubbing his hands over his tired face. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, Oliver. I’m sorry.”

There’s a frigid beat of silence. Sounding raw and strained, Oliver carries on, “I have to keep reminding myself we’re not together aloud to reinforce it in my mind. You have no idea how hard it is, living in the Loft again with Felicity and having to resist to urge to kiss her cheek, or hug her, or touch her shoulder. Some nights I have to check myself, because I instinctively try and follow her into what used to be our bedroom but is now just hers. The number of times I’ve had to bite my tongue to stop myself from calling her an old pet name, or telling her that I love her before leaving for work… John, Felicity and I had our engagement party in this Loft. I jokingly proposed to her again multiple times after Christmas barely ten feet from where I’m sitting. I carried her up and down those stairs every morning and every night before she had the microchip to cure her paralysis inserted. I’m sitting the exact chair I sat in when Donna, Felicity and I began planning a wedding folder. Felicity is sleeping right now on the couch we used to spoon on in the evenings while watching _Say Yes To The Dress_ and _Chopped_. This place is suffocating.”

“I don’t know if living with Felicity is good for you, Oliver,” John answers. “It sounds like you’re torturing yourself.”

“It probably isn’t,” Oliver replies honestly.

“Then why are you staying there?”

Felicity knows the answer. Because Oliver wants to keep her and their baby safe. He wants to make sure that she’s looked after throughout the pregnancy, that their child is looked after. If she weren’t pregnant, Oliver would not be living here with her. He would still be sleeping in the bunker.

Oliver has another explanation, one that triggers tears to brim in Felicity’s eyes. “Because I want to, and need to. I want to keep Felicity close… and she would most likely disagree, but I think she needs me too. I don’t think she should be alone right now, especially not after everything that happened with Havenrock. I get the impression that she blames herself.” Felicity closes her eyes, swallowing. Oliver knows her almost too well. “At least if I’m living with her, I can make sure she’s taking care of herself.”

“And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Are you taking care of yourself?”

“I could do better,” Oliver admits. “I’m keeping up with all of my physical needs, but emotionally speaking… you know, there are days when I just want to breakdown and cry. Scream out into the night about how unfair it all is, and take beatings out in the streets by thugs until I’m numb all over. Feeling nothing is better than feeling everything, after all.”

“You don’t really believe that,” John responds. “You’re in a lot of pain right now, but I know that you know even that’s better than being an emotionless husk. That’s what they were trying to turn you into when Waller was forcing you to work at ARGUS - when you were training for the Bratva.”

“I have to keep putting on these masks,” Oliver sighs. “Pretend that I’m okay, as if everything is normal and I’m coping fine. I don’t want Felicity to know how I’m feeling; she’ll destroy herself over it. Sometimes I think she’s only putting up with me for - well.” _For the baby’s sake_ , she can tell he’s cut himself off from saying. Felicity tries to muffle the distraught noise that bubbles up into her throat, but fails to stifle it completely. The archer jerks in his seat, lowering his laptop screen until it’s half-closed so he can peer over the top, glancing over at her. “Felicity?”

Utilizing her less than superb acting skills, Felicity fakes stirring and slowly waking up, sitting and rolling her shoulders. Oliver quickly says something to John and they exchange swift goodbyes, before he fully shuts his laptop and hurries over to her. Felicity swings her legs to the floor just as the archer appears beside her, offering a glass of water. She takes it with a murmur of thanks, sipping carefully. Oliver runs his eyes up and down her scrutinizingly.

“You can sit, I’m not gonna bite,” she mumbles, between gulps of water.

He takes a seat. “John and I, uh, didn’t disturb your sleep, did we?”

She reads into his question; Oliver is asking without asking whether or not she heard any of their conversation. “No, I just woke up because of a weird beam of sunlight on my face reflecting through the windows,” she lies. “John called? How is he?”

“He seems alright,” he tells her, visibly relaxing. “I would have woken you up when he called, but you looked like you needed the sleep. How was your nap?”

“Restful,” she replies, although after everything she’s just heard him confess to John, she feels anything but rested. Changing the subject before Oliver can ask about her again, Felicity questions, “Is that Bolognese I can smell?”

Oliver flashes a smile. “Yes, it is. A new recipe with turkey mince and fresh San Marzano tomatoes from that Italian market downtown. The sauce has been simmering for a good twenty minutes now, I should probably let it cool and start on the spaghetti. I made that from scratch as well - I know how much you like my fresh pasta.”

He takes her empty water glass and heads back towards the kitchen. Felicity can’t help but be amazed at how incredible this mask he’s adopted to cover his discomfort is. If she hadn’t overheard his admission of suffering to John, she would have no idea how much pain he is in right now, pretending to be okay with living with her in a platonic setting when he’s so haunted by their romantic lives in this Loft.

Sighing softly to herself, Felicity looks down at her flat stomach, stroking her fingers over the sensitive skin. Knowing everything she does now, it’s heartbreaking to think that there’s a tiny life tucked away safe inside of her, centimeters from her hand; a life born from her and Oliver’s heated union in the bunker, that had been so full of hope and desire and blissful ignorance.

Oliver is wrong. She does still love him, despite the fact that he doesn’t trust her. Which is why it’s so devastating to her that Oliver has been in so much pain and actively hiding it from her. Is there a way she can fix this? Does she even want to fix it?

“Oh, baby,” she whispers. “What are we going to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: oliver and felicity's first ultrasound and some angst on felicity's side of things :)


	3. October

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are SO amazing. thank you so much for all your continuing support, i really appreciate it. all your comments have been incredible and really motivated me. im so happy you're all enjoying this so far
> 
> it's time for what you've all been waiting for - the ultrasound! more angst this chapter, for both felicity and oliver - but i mean, it's a lexi fic... of course there's going to be angst ;)
> 
> just to let you all know, next week there will be **no update**. i'm on vacation at the moment and i'm writing and posting a lot of olicity sizzle fics. next monday is going to be very busy for me, so i'm not going to have the chance to update, i don't think. so the **next chapter will be posted on july 29th**. i hope you all don't mind! thank you xx
> 
> i'm actually considering a side-series with oneshots and drabbles set within this universe with little missing scenes, because due to the month-by-month style, a couple of things happen 'off-screen'. if you're interested, please comment below!

“Ah, Miss Smoak… we are on a bit of a clock here. If Mr Queen doesn’t arrive within the next five minutes, I’m afraid we will have to start without him.”

Felicity nods helplessly at Dr Schwartz. She shifts uncomfortably on the medical bed she’s sitting cross-legged on, dressed in blue hospital scrubs that the doctor offered her, since she doesn’t want to accidentally stain her actual clothes. At least she’s not wearing one of those awful, flimsy gowns. Her black skinny jeans and floral top are folded on the bedside table, along with her jacket.

“I’ll try and call him again,” she mutters, pulling out her cell phone.

She is angry. Extremely angry. And distraught, and scared, and _hurt_. There have been several times in her life that Oliver has pissed her off so much that Felicity has felt like she can barely concentrate on anything but her rage - but today? This precise moment she’s actively living? It takes the cake. Because this is meant to be her and Oliver’s first ultrasound appointment with their baby, and he’s late. 

That morning, she must have reminded him about it at least fourteen times. She even called up Sam a good two hours before their scheduled appointment time to ask him to give Oliver another prompt to remember. But Sam told her that Oliver stepped out of the office for a couple of hours and he couldn’t get hold of him. Felicity resorted to trying to contact the archer himself, but he hasn’t been answering her calls or texts. Is she worried about him? A little. But she trusts Oliver to take care of himself. Which is why she’s infuriated with him right now, because he should be here with her in this hospital room, not wherever the hell he’s hiding out.

She knows that Oliver has been having a rough month. On top of all the problems he’s been dealing with at City Hall, Oliver has also been struggling at home with Felicity. Something changed after his conversation with John that Felicity overheard, resulting in the archer trying to maintain a certain distance between them. He’s taken a step back from looking after her attentively, and it’s been a big shock to both of their systems. While Oliver still cooks and bakes for Felicity, makes sure she’s taking her prenatal vitamins and isn’t straining herself, he’s stopped hovering around her. He doesn’t approach or talk to Felicity unless absolutely necessary; their conversations are more geared towards vigilante discussions and pregnancy updates than anything else. Their friendship feels strained. She hates it. It’s awful.

A lot of Oliver’s Green Arrow time has been eaten up by the fact that he’s training two new field recruits for Team Arrow: Rene Ramirez, Wild Dog, and Evelyn Sharp, Artemis. That means that he and Felicity are spending even less time together in the bunker, since he’s over at HIVE’s old headquarters running training exercises on the evenings he’s not doing Glades patrols.

Felicity stays out of it mostly, remaining behind her monitors and helping Curtis get used to her systems, since she and Oliver have agreed that when Felicity eventually needs to go on ‘maternity leave’, Curtis will temporarily pick up her Overwatch duties. She knows that she’ll want to step in if Oliver’s training methods with Rene and Evelyn get a little too extreme. Oliver will listen to her and back off if she protests, but Felicity for whatever reason feels awkward doing that now, especially since this new tension has developed between them.

There is absolutely no excuse, however, for Oliver not turning up for this ultrasound. It’s totally reprehensible. She’s not ever going to forget this. This is a breach of faith and trust of the highest order. She’s not afraid to admit that she’s pretty devastated. It’s going to be extremely difficult for Felicity to forgive Oliver for this.

“Miss Smoak?”

Felicity snaps out of her thoughts, glancing over at Dr Schwartz, who is looking at her apologetically. Oliver hasn’t picked up her call and hasn’t replied to any of her messages. At this point, she has to accept that he’s not coming. He’s going to miss their baby’s first ultrasound. Sighing, Felicity tucks her phone back into her jacket pocket, and casting one last annoyed and miserable glance over at the closed hospital door, gives the doctor a nod.

“I guess Oliver’s not gonna come,” she says, attempting to shrug carelessly, but her voice drips with venom and is strained with dejection, making Dr Schwartz wince. “Might as well begin.”

“Alright,” Dr Schwartz replies softly. “I can always print out some extra sonogram photos for him.”

Her hands are shaking with fury. Irritated beyond belief, Felicity can’t help but think in the midst of her sorrow that if Oliver isn’t going to turn up for their baby’s ultrasound, he doesn’t deserve to see any pictures at all. At the doctor’s urging, she lies back on the bed, hiking up the scrubs t-shirt and pushing down the pants until her belly is fully visible. At thirteen weeks pregnant, Felicity has an actual bump now. Not big enough to look definitively pregnant, but enough to appear a little bloated. It surprised her when it popped about a week ago, because the baby is only the size of a lemon; she shouldn’t really be getting a baby bump this large yet.

“Is the gel going to be cold?” Felicity asks nervously.

Dr Schwartz shoot her an amused smile. “No. Medical practices have advanced. We can warm the gel before our patients arrive, now. It might be a little cooler than your body temperature, but it won’t be cold.”

The doctor asks her a couple more questions about how she’s been feeling and what symptoms she’s been having. Felicity expresses how surprised she is that she hasn’t been getting any morning sickness or cravings yet, but Dr Schwartz replies that not every pregnancy results in morning sickness, and that it’s actually a good thing she hasn’t been getting cravings; cravings are usually caused by a deficiency or lack of a certain vitamin or nutrient, so the fact that she isn’t getting any means that her diet has been adequate.

That actually makes Felicity grumble under her breath, because it’s thanks to Oliver that she’s been eating so well recently. He's been forcing her to consume salads and lots of lean protein while slowly cutting off her fast-food and candy intake. If she desperately wants something sweet or greasy, Felicity can still have something, but Oliver's stopped her from getting take-out a couple of times a week by cooking for her.

The doctor is squirting some of the ultrasound gel onto Felicity’s abdomen and finishing setting up the sonograph when the hospital door bursts open, slamming against the wall with a loud thud. Felicity and Dr Schwartz both jump in shock. Felicity’s heart hammers like a jackrabbit in her chest as surges of adrenaline prepare her frayed nerves, in case she’s in danger and needs to make a run for it.

Oliver stands in the doorway, wide-eyed and breathing heavily. His hair is tousled and damp, and he looks nothing less than disheveled, his jeans and grey t-shirt crumpled like he’s just thrown them on in the last twenty minutes. Rage twinges in Felicity’s chest again, sweeping away the despair; she glares at him, making sure he feels the full heat of it, and only looks away when Oliver cringes.

“Sorry,” he gasps out, stumbling into the room and closing the door behind him. “I’m so sorry. How late am I?”

“Twenty minutes,” Dr Schwartz tells him, suitably unimpressed. “You’re lucky. Another minute and I would have refused to let you in, even if you arrived.”

Oliver nods frantically, taking a seat beside the bed. He reaches for Felicity’s hand, probably to give it an apologetic but supportive squeeze, but the blonde glowers and yanks it away. He sends her a kicked puppy expression for a moment, but Felicity honestly does not care.

“Where the _hell_ have you been?” she hisses.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver insists. “I was training Rene and Evelyn in my lunch break - I lost track of time.”

“Oh, you _lost track of time_ ,” Felicity repeats sarcastically, hiding her hurt with harsh barbs. “Really? That’s your excuse?”

“It’s the truth, Felicity! I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you are.” She refuses to look in the eye. “And now I kind of don’t want you to be.”

Oliver reels back, looking like she’s just punched him in the stomach. “Felicity…”

A song of guilt flashed through her seeing his expression, but Felicity feels slightly relieved that he at least will understand now that he did something drastically wrong. She turns back to Dr Schwartz, raising an eyebrow. “Should we get back to it? This gel really doesn’t feel pleasant on my skin, you know.”

“Great idea,” the doctor responds, her gaze flitting between the two of them anxiously, as if she’s expecting them to start having a full-blown argument right in front of her. 

They sit in frigid silence as Dr Schwartz moves the wand around Felicity’s belly. Felicity rests her head back and stares up at the ceiling, as the doctor has the sonograph screen turned away from them, so she can locate the baby in the static before showing it to them. Oliver sits beside her, his gaze aimed somewhat shamefully to the floor. For a brief second, Felicity allows herself to glance over him, checking his body posture and language. The archer’s muscles are coiled and his entire body is taut, like he’s caught on a live wire. He seems regretful to have arrived so late, which squashes her anger just a little. She’s still annoyed with him, though.

“Alright,” Dr Schwartz says suddenly, causing the both of them to whip around. “Heartbeat first?”

“Yes,” Felicity whispers.

A whooshing thudding sound fills the room. It’s incredibly fast and uneven. Felicity is immediately overwhelmed with fear and concern. That is not normal. Everything she’s read online says that while the baby’s heartbeat should be fast, it should sound regular and uniform. Oliver appears just as panicked beside her.

“If you’re wondering why it sounds like that,” Dr Schwartz says, “It’s because there’s not just one heartbeat.”

Time _stops_.

Felicity’s lungs seize. “I’m sorry, _what?_ ” she chokes.

Dr Schwartz smiles widely at them and slowly turns the screen around. Within the sea of darkness that represents Felicity’s uterus, there are two distinguishable fuzzy white forms moving around minutely.

“Twins?” Oliver asks, his voice nothing more than an awed whisper.

“Yep,” the doctor confirms. “And from the look of things, you’ve got two placentas, Felicity, which indicates that these twins are fraternal.” When the blonde doesn’t respond, Dr Schwartz looks up at her, her happy expression morphing into one of worry. “Felicity, you should probably breathe.”

She didn’t even realize she’s been holding her breath. Oxygen rushes in as she inhales sharply, making her head spin and a strange distorted crackling to occur in her ears. Her vision blurs and for a moment, Felicity isn’t certain she knows up from down, her limbs weakening and both hands and feet going numb. It’s a good thing she’s lying down on the medical bed, because she’s sure she would collapse on her unsteady legs otherwise. “I think I’m gonna faint,” she mutters.

“Oh god, _twins_ ,” she hears Oliver wheeze.

Dr Schwartz immediately puts down the ultrasound wand, standing and lowering the medical bed so Felicity is completely supine. It’s to encourage blood flow to the brain, Felicity thinks, although it takes longer than usual for her thoughts to put themselves together in her fuzzy head. She closes her eyes and wills back the nausea plaguing her, making her stomach twist and roll inside her, as the doctor shimmies a blood pressure cuff onto her arm and wheels an oxygen machine over. The mask is pressed to her face for about half a minute, and it’s not very nice, but breathing in the pure oxygen helps reduce her shallow breathing and make the sickness fade.

“Your blood pressure is gradually coming back up,” Dr Schwartz informs her. “Mr Queen, can you grab a water bottle from the fridge in the corner, please?” There’s a beat and then the doctor continues, obviously catching sight of the archer’s reaction, “Jesus, you’re not going to pass out too, are you? Sit down, put your head between your knees. I’ll get water for both of you.”

Dr Schwartz doesn’t return the bed to its half-inclined position until Felicity is able to swing her legs off the side of the bed and sit up straight by herself, draining her bottle of water. Oliver paces back and forth near the windows like an uneasy, distressed tiger, his own empty bottle in hand. Observing him carefully, Felicity eventually manages to box up all of her disbelief, fright, and astonishment, compartmentalizing her fluctuating emotions so she can try and read Oliver’s. He’s in shock, that much is clear. His old nervous tick is back, where he rubs his thumb and forefinger together on his dominant hand, as if he’s itching to nock an arrow to an invisible bow.

“Ready to get a proper look at your babies?” Dr Schwartz asks. “Or are the two of you going to nearly faint again?”

Felicity looks over at Oliver, swallowing when he stills, staring at her from the other side of the room. The turmoil and indecision in his eyes scare her. He’s not just in shock; he’s terrified. And she knows precisely how Oliver reacts to fear. He runs. Felicity doesn’t know how she’ll cope if Oliver decides to flee from this situation, leaving her behind. She might be angry and upset with him, but she still needs him.

“I… I need a minute,” Oliver mutters. “I might... take a step outside.”

No, no, no… if Oliver walks outside that door, there’s a high chance that he won’t be coming back in.

“Oliver?” Felicity murmurs. He raises his chin ever so slightly, acknowledging his name. Biting her lip, Felicity extends her trembling hand towards him. “Please?”

“Felicity...”

“I’m scared. I don’t want to do this without you.” Tears brim in her eyes, and she desperately wipes them away, sniffling. “Please, I can’t do this without you.”

His expression transforms from one of apprehension and dread to one of utter guilt. Oliver crosses the room and has her hand gripped tightly within his in less than a second. “I am not going anywhere,” he promises her. “If you want me to stay, I’ll stay.”

“Don’t walk out on me,” she says feebly, moving their joint hands to hover over her abdomen. “On us.”

“Never,” Oliver swears.

Dr Schwartz sets up the ultrasound machine again so this time she can record a video of the two babies side by side. At first, Felicity only sees a single baby on the screen. Her heart in her throat, she tries to spot the second, but fails to.

“I - I only see…”

“Ah, they’ve shifted position,” the doctor realizes. She moves the wand on Felicity’s belly until finally, after a good half a minute of tense waiting, a second baby emerges from the darkness. “There you go! Baby number two is elusive but I think we’ve pinned them down.”

Felicity watches in wonder as the twins interact within her uterus by bumping into each other, separated only by their amniotic sacs. The doctor continues to talk about how the babies look healthy and give more details about their positioning, pointing out limbs and explaining their development, but Felicity only really half-listens, focused completely on the screen. She hears Oliver ask questions about safety and the effect the twins might have on her microchip, and Felicity mentally notes to thank him for that later, but also files it away that Dr Schwartz reassures him that the microchip and twins should be perfectly fine.

Felicity only clicks back to attention when she hears the doctor list a due date.

“But that’s the beginning of May,” she says.

Dr Schwartz nods. “With twins, we always predict that they’ll be born a week or two earlier due to how cramped they’re going to get inside your womb. They’re going to want out of there.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Felicity stares at her, her heart beginning to tapdance again. Her blood pressure, which is still being recorded, begins to rise. “My babies _cannot_ be born in May. Is there any way we can schedule an induction for the end of April or something? When’s the earliest they can be born with it still being safe?”

Oliver shakes his head, confused. “Felicity, what are talking about?”

“Every single year, Star City has an apocalyptic, life-threatening disaster that destroys everything, Oliver, and it’s _always in May!_ ” she says, her voice high with alarm. “We will be needed to save the universe, the Green Arrow and Overwatch cannot be in this hospital anytime during that month! Our children _can not be born in May!_ ”

“Hey! Hey.” Felicity freezes when Oliver cups her face, forcing her to meet his calm gaze. “It’s okay. You don’t need to freak out.”

“I don’t want to be in labor while the world is on fire around me, Oliver,” she whispers, fighting back a sob. “I can’t be useless like that. And I don’t want our babies born into a war-stricken city on the verge of decimation.”

“We’ll just have to work extra hard this year to make sure there’s no city-wide attack in May, then,” Oliver says, his voice low and soothing. “Okay?”

She nods wordlessly.

Oliver slides his hands away, leaving one behind to rest on Felicity’s shoulder lightly. “Any chance you could tell us the genders of the babies at this point?” he asks Dr Schwartz.

“They’re a little too wriggly to make an accurate guess,” the doctor replies. “I can do blood tests to determine for certain, if you’d like, or you can wait until your twenty-week scan.”

Felicity suspects that Oliver wants to know the genders as soon as possible, but she still hasn’t fully wrapped her head around the fact that she’s growing two tiny humans inside her instead of one like she thought, yet. Wrinkling her nose, she shakes her head and murmurs, “I’m still feeling dizzy, I don’t think it would be a good idea to get needles involved on top of that.”

Oliver looks disappointed, but agrees. Dr Schwartz tells them apologetically that they’re out of time and shuts off the sonogram, promising to email a video of the twins squirming around. She leaves to go and collect print-offs of the ultrasound photos for them after handling Felicity some tissues to clean the gel off her. She heads into the bathroom to change out of scrubs back into her normal clothes, checking that Oliver is going to wait for her by leaving the door open a very small crack. The archer leans against the wall, arms crossed and deep in thought.

When Felicity returns, pulling her jacket on, Oliver glances over her, his eyes zeroing in on her baby bump, which is mostly hidden by the bagginess of her top and her coat. “It’s going to be difficult to hide this now,” he comments.

“Well, I’m thirteen weeks,” Felicity shrugs. “The ultrasound showed that everything is good. We can afford to tell people if we want to. I know I’m definitely going to call somebody tonight and cry about how we’re having twins.” Oliver shoots her an incredulous look that makes her roll her eyes. “You can’t deny this is a huge bombshell that’s been dropped on us, Oliver. I thought we’d struggle to be prepared to deal with one baby… we’re undoubtedly not going to be ready for two.”

“We’ve got over six months, Felicity, until you’re due. We don’t have to be ready right now. As long as we’re ready on the day the twins arrive, I think we’ll be fine,” Oliver tries to reassure her. “So who are you going to call? Your mom?”

“God no. As soon as she finds out, she’ll be on the next flight from Vegas to Star City and insist on staying for the whole duration of the pregnancy. I know you love having her stay with us, but I’d go insane by the time Hanukkah rolls around. We’re telling her as late as possible.” She hesitates and then asks warily, “Would you… mind if I spoke to Thea about this? We’ve become really good friends over the last year and she’s the only woman I can really talk to about, you know, _every_ part of my life.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Oliver smiles. “I would like to tell John when we have our Skype session tomorrow, if that’s alright. And I should probably tell Quentin, Adrian and Sam as well, so they know why I’m rushing in and out of the office.”

“Sam is finally going to understand why you keep paying him overtime to remind me about food in the fridge and deliver milkshakes to the Loft,” Felicity snorts a laugh. 

The archer chuckled along with her, but quickly his grin and amusement dimmed, being replaced with caution and sadness. “Are you mad at me?” he asks quietly. “About arriving late?”

Felicity doesn’t see any point in lying. “Yes,” she tells him truthfully. “But not as mad as I was earlier, sitting in this room alone waiting for you to come, but not knowing for certain if you’d show.”

“I did!”

“That’s not the point, Oliver.” She sighs, dropping her gaze to the floor. “That I thought you might not turn up in itself is bad. I need to be able to rely on you, but I can’t when I don’t know what your priorities are. I know you’re busy, with work and the recruits and whatever personal things are going on in your life right now, but… I don’t want to feel like an afterthought.”

“You could never be an afterthought,” he protests. “How could you possibly think that? How long have you thought that?”

“I don’t know, Oliver. Maybe always. There always seemed to be something of higher priority than our relationship going on even when we were together. Perhaps because you didn’t fully trust me.” Felicity rubs her fingers over her brow, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And I consider myself an afterthought because today, you forgot about the ultrasound appointment because you were training Rene and Evelyn. Does that mean our kids are afterthoughts for you too? I don’t know. That scares me.”

Oliver opens his mouth to disagree but then stops himself, responding weakly, “I… I didn’t forget… I lost track of -”

“- time? Yeah. You wouldn’t have lost track of time in the first place if you’d remembered the appointment.” Felicity smiles at him sadly, resting her hand protectively over her swollen belly. “I don’t want to fight, Oliver. That’s the last thing I want to do at this point. Our arguments are rarely ever productive, and to be honest, I’m too tired to debate with you over this. You want to be present in the lives of our children? You need to step up.”

The archer looks like he’s on the verge of tears. “I’m trying, Felicity.”

She closes her eyes and exhales, before taking a steady step forwards and taking Oliver’s hands in her own. Peering up at him, she assures him, “I know you’re trying. And for the most part, it’s working out. But it’s very plain to see that you’re attempting to live three lives here; mayor, Green Arrow, and expecting father. I just…” She guides his hand down to press against her belly bump. Oliver’s eyes light up, but quickly grow remorseful when he seems to realize that he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to do this if he hadn’t turned up. He wouldn’t even know they’re having twins. “Oliver, I want to be able to trust that you’re going to be here for the important moments. Like this one. And the many that are sure to come. But at the moment, I just…”

Oliver releases a small, distressed sound. “You know I’ll always try my hardest to be here. For you, and for our babies. I promise you that.”

She nods. “Okay. You promise. I'm going to hold you to that. I’m sorry, by the way. For saying earlier that I didn’t want you to be here. I was pissed off, but it was rude. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“You don’t need to -“

“No. I do. I was being cruel,” Felicity bites her lip. “I let my emotions cloud my judgment and because I was so angry and hurt, I wanted you to realize that and be upset yourself. You don’t deserve that. You deserve better. I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s alright. You were perfectly within your rights to be angry. It is my fault that I turned up late when I promised you I would come. You were alone waiting here, and that shouldn’t have happened. That’s on me. Next time we have something planned, I’ll set at least ten reminders on my phone and turn it up to full volume, to make sure I’m on time. Maybe I’ll even be early.”

“I’d like that,” Felicity offers a smile. “I always prefer to be ten minutes early for planned events and appointments, so it would be nice to have somebody to wait with.”

The intense moment is interrupted by Dr Schwartz returning to the room, passing them both copies of photos from the ultrasound. She’s chosen some good shots where they can clearly spot both of the individual babies, so nobody is going to question whether or not they’re having twins. Oliver thanks the doctor and tucks the photos into his wallet, while Felicity does the same, hiding them in her purse.

They walk side by side out of the hospital room and down the corridor together. Before the two of them can split off, Oliver questions, “Can I take you home?”

Felicity eyes him dubiously. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to City Hall? Or HIVE, with the recruits?”

Oliver shrugs, turning to face her. “I sent Rene and Evelyn home to rest after our training session, and yesterday, had Sam re-arrange all my meetings for this afternoon to other days this week. Everybody at the office is under the impression that I’m here at the hospital supporting you getting a minor operation to check on your implant. I told Sam there was the chance that I wouldn’t be coming back in after.”

“You lied to our employees?” she quirks an eyebrow. “To your assistant? Sam isn’t going to happy when finds out.”

“Sam will be too ecstatic over the fact that you’re pregnant with my twin children to get irritated over me bending the truth,” Oliver smirks. “After all, I _am_ at the hospital supporting you, aren’t I? I didn’t lie about that. So will you let me travel back with the Loft with you? We can stop by the Peking and get dim sum and chow mein on our way back.”

“You’re bribing me with Chinese food to get me to agree to you taking me home?”

“Is it working?”

“Dammit. Yes.”

“And maybe once we’re home, we can start discussing baby names?” he asks slyly. “I’ll buy you some egg rolls as well.”

Felicity narrows her eyes and negotiates, “Egg rolls _and_ red bean buns.”

“... Okay, but you have to drink green tea tomorrow morning instead of coffee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: hanging out in the bunker, john and the recruits, baby name discussions


	4. November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!!!! we backkk. thank you for all your patience. i had a great vacation with a lot of relaxation and even managed to write a couple of sizzle fics while i was away, which was great x
> 
> if you follow me on twitter, you'll know that i decided to do a major rewrite from chapter 6 onwards because i wasn't exactly happy with olicity's characterisation. the rewrite is going slowly, only because i don't want to mess up again. all that means for you guys is that there might be a time in the future where another week's break need to happen - probably after chapter 7 - so i don't have to worry about pressuring myself when rewriting. i hope you understand!!
> 
> also - check out **[time falls away (in these small hours)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19966738)** , which is going to contain missing scene oneshots and drabbles and side stories for this fic. suggestions are welcome!!! the first oneshot, olicity telling thea about the twins, is already posted.
> 
> anywayyyy this chapter is much fluffier (theres some angst but not much) to prep you for the angst to come :) sam read the rewritten chapter 7. y'all aren't ready. she cried.
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

Felicity huffs unhappily, glaring down at the jumbo bag of _Flamin' Hot_ Cheetos that she’s dropped to the glass floor of her computer platform in the bunker. With her seventeen-week baby belly, now the size of a decently inflated balloon due to the fact she’s pregnant with twins, and the fact that her breasts have grown by two cup sizes and are agonizing to touch… there’s no way she can bend over in her chair while staying sitting to pick the Cheetos up.

She can’t be bothered, however, to stand and squat down to grab the bag. She’s been experiencing awful backache and also round ligament pains around the sides of her abdomen, and Felicity’s only just managed to get comfortable in her chair. If she stands, she knows she won’t be able to get this comfy again.

“You two are so annoying,” she growls, poking at her belly gently. Felicity winces when she feels a swooping sensation, most likely caused by one of the twins attempting a somersault. “You’re having so much fun assaulting my uterus right now, aren’t you? Little troublemakers. You get all your mischief genes from your father. I’m blaming Oliver for this.”

John Diggle is her savior, appearing from behind her to lean over, snag the edge of the bag and lift it back up into her lap. “Need a hand?”

Felicity sighs in relief and pats him on the arm in thanks. “My knight in shining armor. That’s who you are, and who you’ve been, ever since Merlyn Global.”

She digs into the Cheetos and groans in delight as she licks the flavored dust off her fingers. John has only recently arrived back in Star City after the whole situation where he ended up in military prison and Oliver needed to rescue him. He’s been incredibly kind and supportive to both Felicity and Oliver ever since finding out about the pregnancy, and Felicity is now able to enjoy his help in person.

When John’s not spending time with Lyla and JJ, he’s at the bunker keeping Felicity company and helping Oliver train the recruits. They certainly have their hands full getting Rene, Evelyn, and Rory up to speed on the necessary vigilante skills. Rory has a lot to catch up on, since Oliver only recruited him recently. Felicity has pretty much finished giving Curtis the technical training he needs to man the bunker and comms for when she goes on maternity leave, so it’s just the in-field kids they’re dealing with now.

“Does Oliver know you’re eating those?” he asks, taking a seat beside Felicity and raising an eyebrow.

“He’s too busy beating up Rene, Rory and Evelyn, so he hasn’t noticed yet,” Felicity answers, through mouthfuls of Cheetos. “I mean, er - training them. Yeah. That’s what he’s doing.”

“Rene tapped out a good ten minutes ago,” John laughs. “Rory’s taking him home to lick his wounds. Evelyn’s still going strong.”

Felicity nods, shaking her now empty bag of chips. That sounds about right. Oliver is a lot harder on Rory and Rene in hand-to-hand combat training than Evelyn, meaning the girl can last longer, but he’s much pickier with her when it comes to their weapons training. “Oliver said he was going to give her some archery training today. He probably doesn’t want to risk breaking her before that.”

A pained yelp echoes through the bunker almost immediately after Felicity finishes her sentence, making her tilt her head back tiredly. That did not sound particularly male. John shoots her a look, silently asking her if she’s going to handle it, or if he should. Shaking her head, Felicity heaves herself out of her chair, muttering angrily to the twins about how their daddy is being too tough on his trainees. The size of her baby bump requires her to walk more cautiously and brace herself against the railings, one arm wrapped around her stomach, as she descends the stairs; she’s not quite walking in a waddle yet, but she’s close to it, at this point.

Evelyn is sprawled out on the training mats, whining and clutching her knee, when Felicity approaches. Oliver is standing over his recruit with a faintly apologetic look. Felicity doesn’t even need to ask what happened. The archer targeted a vulnerable point on the girl’s body when exposed, kicking her down to the floor to teach her a lesson about leaving certain pressure points open to enemy attack.

Since it looks as if Oliver isn’t going to help Evelyn up, Felicity rolls her eyes and steps in front of him, offering her hand. Oliver hastily takes hold of her waist to steady her as Felicity helps Evelyn back to her feet, since her center of gravity has changed due to the twins sitting in her pelvis, shifting her ability to balance.

Once Evelyn is up, Oliver withdraws his hands from Felicity’s hips as if he’s been burned. It hurts to think that he’s so hesitant and reluctant to touch her, but Felicity understands that her waist and hips are rather intimate places for Oliver to grasp her by, and he doesn’t want to overstep her boundaries.

“That wasn’t fair,” Evelyn bristles.

Oliver doesn’t look at all apologetic. “Fights are rarely fair, kid.”

“What happened here?” Felicity raises an eyebrow.

“He kicked me in the back of my knee,” Evelyn says, glaring at her mentor. “After I managed to throw him!”

Oliver jerks his shoulders in a shrug. “You have to learn not to turn your back on your enemy, no matter whether you’ve put them down or not.”

“He does have a point,” Felicity tells Evelyn, making her cross her arms over her chest defensively, but then she turns to Oliver and adds sternly, “But that was a bit of a dick move, Oliver. Which is why I’m vetoing Cassandra.”

Oliver’s eyes widen. “No way!” he instantly protests. “You already used your veto against Nathan!”

“Yes, because we agreed that we’re not naming either one of our babies after exes,” Felicity counters.

“Fine,” he scowls. “But I get another veto to use at a later date.”

“Are you two still having this argument?” Evelyn asks in disbelief, glancing between the two of them.

“Yes,” they both respond simultaneously.

“Seriously? It’s been a _month_ , how long does it really take to choose baby names?”

Yes, this debate has been going on for a month now. From the moment they arrived home from the first ultrasound, Felicity and Oliver have been throwing baby names back and forth, trying to choose some. Since they’re having fraternal twins and don’t know their genders yet, they’ve decided to choose two boy names and two girl names. When they finally find out the genders at their second scan, they’ll have it sorted if the twins are the same gender, and if they’re not, they’ll be able to choose from the pool.

They’ve already chosen one full boy’s name and one full girl’s name: Thomas Robert Smoak-Queen and Mia Emily Smoak-Queen. Thomas Robert after Oliver’s late best friend and father, and Mia Emily after Oliver’s mother and Felicity’s grandmother. Those two names were quite quickly picked out, in less than a week. The other two names are what they’ve been trying to decide since.

Felicity shamelessly burnt Oliver’s baby name book to a crisp two weeks ago when he started suggesting archery related names (he assured her it was a joke, but Felicity knew he was serious) so instead of getting ideas from books and the internet, they’ve been outsourcing recently.

“Jonathan?” Oliver wildly suggests.

“No. Lauren?”

The archer shakes his head. “No.”

This is getting nowhere. “Evelyn.” Felicity snaps her fingers. “Two names, quick. One for a boy, one for a girl.”

“Noah and Madison,” Evelyn replies, as if she doesn’t even need to think about it.

Except Oliver has a response ready. “I had a one-night-stand with a girl called Madison once and Felicity’s evil hacktivist father is called Noah.”

“He’s reformed!”

“Still tried to steal from your company and sent hired mercs to kill John and me!”

“He helped us save the world from Damien Darhk!”

“After attempting to destroy the internet and decimate Star City!”

“Fine. We can strike off Noah. And Madison. But I think we have to rethink this whole no naming after exes thing, because at this point we’re never going to find another name for a girl,” Felicity huffs.

“Are you trying to imply I was a manwhore before the island?”

She lifts her chin. “Do I need to?”

“Just because I’ve slept with - a lot of people -”

“Delicate ears in the room,” Evelyn cuts him off. “Mine and the twins’.”

Stalking past Felicity and shouldering Evelyn on his way, Oliver grabs a towel to wipe his sweat off and a fresh t-shirt, snagging a water bottle to toss over to his trainee. Since bringing Rene, Evelyn, and Rory into the bunker, he’s rarely worked out shirtless. He doesn’t want his recruits to see his scars; John reckons it’s because Oliver might be scared and wary of letting his trainees see how physically damaged he’s been fighting this crusade, but Felicity thinks it’s because the archer just doesn’t want to answer any difficult questions that might be posed. She knows the stories behind every one of Oliver’s scars, but she’s the only person who does, and might be the only person who ever will.

“Do you have any names high up in the runnings?” John questions curiously, wandering over to watch them interact.

He wheels a chair over from the conference table for Felicity, which she sits down in swiftly, smiling gratefully. Any chance to get off her sore, swollen feet, she’ll take at this point. The twins are wrecking her body, something she’s complained about to Oliver no less than a hundred different times. She’s complained about this being karma for deciding to take a break from her birth control a week before their night of passion in the bunker - that this is the universe’s way of laughing at her for forgetting about the stash of condoms they keep in the medical cabinets.

Curtis thinks it’s hilarious when she goes on these rants, until she turns on him and claims this is perhaps more his fault than Oliver’s, since he’s the one who bought Chinese food and pointed them towards the wine that got them so very, very drunk enough to have the sex that’s resulted in the twins in the first place. Thea is already giving him credit for it.

“We have loads of names,” she answers John. “We just can’t seem to agree.”

“What names have you picked out then?”

Oliver perks up. “Want to see the mind-map?”

John blinks at him. “What the hell’s a mind-map?”

“I’ll show you!”

“No, John, now he’s going to talk about his mind-map,” Felicity groans. She tips her head back so it’s resting on Evelyn’s stomach, as the girl stands behind her, beginning to gently massage her shoulders in a very helpful manner. “He loves it so much, you’d think he loves it more than the twins.”

Excited, Oliver vanishes for a moment around the corner before returning, wheeling along one of the glass screens they usually use for mission planning, evidence boards, and mapping out investigations, but in this case, has been utilized as a chart for potential baby names.

“Left side is Felicity’s, right side is mine,” the archer says. “Separated into boy and girl columns. Names are listed from top to bottom in order of highest preference to lowest.”

“I can’t believe you still have Donna at the top of yours for a girl,” Felicity sighs. “My mom is gonna develop such a massive ego if we name our daughter after her.”

“I can’t believe you still have _Olivia_ on the table.”

“I like the name Olivia, it has nothing to do with how similar it is to your name. And yes, I know you like the name Donna. How about we downgrade Olivia and Donna to potential middle name status instead?” she suggests.

Oliver furrows his brow, but nods, wiping the names off so he can write them in blue instead of black at the bottom of the screen, indicating they’re choices for middle names now. Overall, there must be at least twenty names written down across the board. Felicity’s head spins just trying to read them all.

“Is that John I see in the middle name pool for a boy? On both of your sides?” John smirks.

“Why do you think it’s circled?” Felicity smiles. “It’s one of the only middle names for a boy we see eye to eye on.” Tilting her head, she examines the screen once again, testing out combinations of names in her thoughts and imagining them next to Thomas Robert and Mia Emily. “Oliver, underline Lucas for me, will you? And Adeline.”

The archer shoots her a suspicious look. “Why?”

“Because I like the sound of Lucas John and Adeline Donna in my head, okay?”

Oliver looks surprised for a second, and then his expression shifts into one of open contemplation. “I… actually like the sound of those two as well.”

John and Evelyn exchange hopeful glances. Snatching the whiteboard pen and cloth from the archer’s hand, Evelyn began cleaning off all of the names on the screen, causing both Felicity and Oliver to squawk in protest. The blonde tries to stand to stop her, but ends up falling back into her chair with a thump, her back hurting too much and her balloon belly making it too difficult to manage such quick movements. John catches Oliver around the waist, using his heavier weight against the younger man to keep him in place.

In blue marker, Evelyn writes _Thomas Robert Smoak-Queen_ and _Lucas John Smoak-Queen_ at the top of the screen, and then below, in red marker, she writes _Mia Emily Smoak-Queen_ and _Adeline Donna Smoak-Queen_.

“So names are sorted, right?” she asks, turning back to face them with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, we’ll need to discuss it further -” Oliver starts, but Evelyn lunges to grab his quiver, chucking it at him. The archer has to stoop to catch it, looking at with a scandalized expression, as if he can’t believe she so carefully threw his beloved quiver. “Evelyn -”

“Baby names have been decided. You said you were gonna teach me to shoot blindfolded today, and I have to finish training by five so John can take me back to his to babysit JJ this evening while he’s on his dinner date with Lyla.”

Oliver squints at her. “You’re only sixteen, should you really be babysitting a toddler by yourself?”

“You’re only thirty-one, should you really be lecturing a sixteen-year-old on her life choices considering you dress up in green leather every night and accidentally knocked up your ex-fiancee best friend with twins?” Evelyn mocks his condescending tone.

Felicity offers her a high-five, which Evelyn smugly accepts. “That was savage.”

Oliver does not appear impressed. “And just for that comment, you’re shooting with your non-dominant hand today,” he tells her.

“You know I’m not strong enough to do that yet!” Evelyn scowls. Felicity can’t help but snicker at her petulant tone. She’s acting very similar to how a snarky teenager would towards her overprotective father.

“Tough, kid. You try and sass me, these are the consequences. Go and get kitted up for archery,” Oliver orders. When Evelyn glares at him, the archer taps his finger warningly. “Hey, I’ll make you shoot with only _one_ hand if you keep up that attitude.”

“Jeez, fine.” Evelyn sidesteps past him. “I’m going, Dad, I’m going.”

It’s a playful statement meant completely in jest, but Oliver startles visibly before going completely still, staring after her with a strange, bemused expression on his face. John quickly checks between the two of them before following after Evelyn, giving them their space. Felicity understands why Oliver’s feeling so shaken. When Rene jokingly called her Mom last week, she froze, because she’s always imagined being called Mom for the first time by her actual children, not the recruits.

She supposes that in a way, Rene, Evelyn, Rory, and even Curtis, are sort of their adopted kids. They’ve given them a home and a purpose, and have started giving them advice regarding their personal lives on top of mentoring them in the heroes-in-training field. Oliver must only be realizing this now, because his dawning look of comprehension is one Felicity has never seen before.

“Didn’t think you’d be hearing that from anybody apart from the twins, did you?” she teases him, standing and poking him in the arm.

Oliver exhales, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Actually, I thought I’d be hearing it from William for the first time,” he murmurs.

Felicity immediately feels terrible. “Oh, Oliver. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that…”

“It’s okay. I haven’t been his dad in… in any way that’s mattered.” Oliver’s beautiful blue eyes darken with sorrow and regret. “I can’t exactly claim to be a good father considering it’s my fault he was targeted and kidnapped by Darhk… when I’m the reason he and his mother needed to leave and go into hiding.”

“You did what you felt you had to, to protect him,” Felicity says gently.

“It wasn’t enough.” Oliver shakes his head, dejected. “I wasn’t enough.”

He begins to walk away, almost shuffling due to his now miserable mood, but he halts when he hears Felicity call his name softly. She doesn’t speak again until he’s turned back around and standing a foot away from her, because she wants to grasp his hand. “If you would like to know where Willliam is… how he’s doing, what his school grades are… you know I could probably track him down for you, right? If you wanted to check up on him… not even visit him, but to see how he is... I could help you do that.”

“Thank you, Felicity,” Oliver murmurs, his fingers tightening around hers as he leans in to brush a kiss against her forehead. “But I think William will be much better off without somebody like me in his life.” His other hand strokes over her baby bump affectionately. “I just hope I can give the twins the safe and happy lives they deserve.”

Felicity doesn’t move as the archer leaves, just closes her eyes and swallows around the lump in her throat. She ends up eventually trailing along behind Oliver and settling down on the couch next to John, who is skipping through a newspaper, with a perfect view of Oliver and Evelyn training. He’s making the girl practice archery with her non-dominant hand as he threatened he would for her talking back to him, but is being very kind and supportive about it. When he spots that Evelyn isn’t able to draw the bowstring back entirely because her non-dominant arm is weaker, he swaps out her bow for a compound one with a little less draw weight, helping her pull the string back and correcting her stance. He’s a natural-born teacher, giving her tips for improvement while also encouraging the things Evelyn gets right and does well.

As Evelyn fires arrow after arrow at the targets across the room, hitting a couple of bullseyes, Felicity overhears the pair of archers casually discussing Thanksgiving plans. Evelyn admits that she hasn’t had a proper Thanksgiving meal in three years and Oliver is almost too eager to invite her over to the Loft, where he’s planning a big holiday party; John, Quentin, Curtis, and Thea are already invited, and he confesses that he wants to invite Rene and Rory too, but isn’t sure how to approach it. Evelyn brightens and promises to help him.

It’s endearing and sweet. Oliver is obviously a paternal figure for Evelyn. That’s why Felicity finds it so heartbreaking that he’s anxious about being a father to the twins.

Oliver is so concerned already that he’s going to have a negative impact on his children when they haven’t even been born yet, all because of the disastrous situation that occurred surrounding William. Felicity has thought long and hard about everything that happened regarding Oliver keeping his twelve-year-old son secret from her; she knows that he didn’t want to lie to her, has heard from Samantha’s mouth that Oliver begged her to let him tell Felicity about his child. Oliver was scared and paranoid, and most of all, absolutely terrified that he might never get the chance to see William again if he went against Samantha’s wishes.

Yes, Felicity is still angry and upset that Oliver lied and kept secrets from her when they were engaged and she was meant to be the person he trusted most, but she also understands at this point that Oliver felt as if he didn’t have another choice. He tried to keep William safe, but failed, because in the end, his son ended up in Damien Darhk’s slimy hands anyway.

She’s forgiven him, at this point. Because she can see now that what Oliver (and Samantha as well) were going was prioritizing William ahead of everything and everybody else. It was something they did instinctually as his parents; Oliver barely knew he was a father before he started doing it. And Felicity understands why he did that now she’s pregnant, because she knows she would prioritize her and Oliver’s twins over everything and everybody else as well. As a mother, she wants her children to be safe and happy, and doesn’t care what she’ll have to do to ensure that. Oliver was doing the same for William, without even really realizing it.

Oliver thinks he isn’t worthy of being a dad. Not to William, and not to the twins. And that’s heartbreaking for Felicity. Because she can see him interacting with the recruits, mentoring and parenting and caring about them so effortlessly because his heart is so full of love. Oliver is already an excellent father. She wishes that he would recognize that in himself, but Oliver has such low self-esteem that she worries that he never will.

For a moment, Felicity wonders whether or not she should comment on it. Whether or not she should vocalize her forgiveness of him, her understanding of why he did what he did. She’s told Oliver she forgives him before, although not properly - would it be worth telling him again, with a more sufficient explanation? Before she can make up her mind, however, the archer veers away from Evelyn, his cell phone in hand.

Hurrying to her feet, the blonde rushes after him to ask what’s going on. Thankfully, Oliver catches sight of her and slows his pace; Felicity is fighting the urge to pant (damn babies winding her after she’s barely ran ten steps) when she snags the back of his t-shirt, yanking on it to get him to wheel around and face her.

“Where are you going?” she questions.

Oliver waves his cell phone. “Sam texted, apparently Adrian needs me for something urgent at the office. Oh, and before I forget, could you please push back our reservation at Alonzo’s tomorrow an hour? The security team can’t make our meeting at 3pm anymore but are available straight after our meeting with Jean, which means we’ve got a nice hour’s break in between, but we might be cutting it a little fine with our dinner reservation time.”

“I thought we only had two meetings tomorrow,” Felicity frowns. She’s usually very good with scheduling. Her mental calendar is impeccable. Damn pregnancy brain is screwing with her memory again. 

“No, we’ve got three, remember?” Oliver says with an amused smile. He begins listing them off, counting on his fingers. “Our meeting at 2pm with Quentin, Thea, PR and marketing to draft a press statement announcing the pregnancy, our 4pm with Jean about finances and setting up trust funds for the twins, and now we’ll have a 5pm with Adrian and the security team about handling the reporters and media presence concerning the press announcement.”

Ah, right. They’re going to be discussing telling the entire world about the twins tomorrow. It’s something they have to do; Felicity is very visibly pregnant now. The only reason it hasn’t leaked to the media is because Oliver and John have been taxi-ing her back and forth between the bunker and the Loft. If everything goes to plan with the meetings, the press statement will be released at 6pm sharp - just in time for Felicity to make her first public appearance in a restaurant.

Considering they’ll need at least an hour after their last meeting to get home, shower, change and get to Alonzo’s, Felicity determines, “I’ll ask for the reservation to be pushed back to 8pm then.”

Oliver nods in approval. “Good.”

John, who has been watching the two of them interact from where he’s leaning against one of the support pillars, raises his chin and asks in a falsely blasé voice, “You two going out for dinner together? Anything fancy?”

Felicity catches onto what’s hidden in his tone. John thinks that she and Oliver are going on a _date_. “Iris and Barry are going to be in town tomorrow,” she’s quick to inform him. “So we thought we might meet up with them for a nice, casual, relaxed evening.” _And it’s not a date,_ she resists adding.

“Sounds like you’re going to be very busy tomorrow,” John notes, pursing his lips and nodding.

Oliver’s phone pings again, forcing him to check it. He grimaces, indicating it’s Sam again with another update on Adrian’s business. “Yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll still be here for our morning sparring session and to run the recruits through their paces.”

“And I will be here updating the police scanner algorithms,” Felicity claps her hands together.

“Why don’t you take the morning off?” John suggests, glancing between them and quirking an eyebrow. “Stay at home, get some brunch. I can handle things here.”

That sounds amazing. But really, she’s only seventeen weeks pregnant, so would doing that be thought of as lazy? Felicity bites her lip. “Are you sure?”

John seems to sense what she’s thinking, because he chuckles. “Felicity, you’re seventeen weeks pregnant with twins, I would be insisting you sleep in every morning if I didn’t think you’d flay me alive for suggesting you take it easy.” Felicity ducks her head with her own quiet laugh. He’s right, of course. John’s very rarely wrong. “Besides, I imagine Oliver has been nagging you enough, you don’t need me badgering you to rest as well.”

“John, trust me, I’d be staying in bed as long as possible in the mornings if it weren’t for these two little potatoes in my uterus, parkouring all over my bladder.” She pats her balloon belly, wincing as the twins prove her point by rolling around, grappling with each other for space. “They get that from you, you know, Oliver. It’s wildly unfair. They’re abusing my organs. Both of them. They’ve been kicking and punching my kidneys very enthusiastically this week.”

Oliver twitches, blinking. “I’m sorry, roll back a bit.” He raises his hand, stopping her from continuing to talk. “Did you just call our babies _potatoes?_ ”

“Yes. Problem?”

“... I’m not saying anything.”

“Your tone suggested you were going to.”

“Nope. No, I wasn’t. You can call our babies potatoes, if that’s what you want to do. If you think that’s what’s… best, as nicknames for them.”

“And if I do?”

“... That’s fine.”

“That’s what I thought,” Felicity lifts her chin triumphantly.

Oliver smirks. “Are we fighting?”

“Not yet,” she laughs. “I’ll see you at home later, Oliver.”

“See you at home.” He points at her. “By the way. Baby names have not been finalized yet. We’ll discuss later.”

"I think we've decided, Oliver," she chuckled. "Besides, I think John and Evelyn are tired of listening to our arguments... we have four great names picked out, let's just stick with them."

He eyes her warily. "Are you _certain_ you're happy with them? You're okay with one of the girls' middle names being Donna?"

"It'll save my neck if my mom figures out I've been avoiding telling her about the pregnancy. I love all the names, Oliver," she assures him with a smile. "Do you?"

"I do," he agrees.

"Then there's nothing else we need to discuss, is there? Go on, get going - Sam and Adrian are waiting for you."

He nods and waves goodbye, calling out to Evelyn to keep training until she hits five bullseyes in a row. Evelyn gives him the middle finger and Oliver’s laughs echo throughout the bunker as he departs.

Twirling back around, Felicity plans to head back to the couch and get John to bring over her tablet so she can binge some Game of Thrones episodes when she spots the expression on her friend’s face. “John? What is it?”

John keeps staring at her with that weird look on his face. “Hey, Evelyn,” he eventually calls to the recruit. “Have Oliver and Felicity been like this around each other while I haven’t been here?”

“They’re always like that,” Evelyn snorts, firing another arrow and groaning when it strikes just shy of the center of the target. “They’re blind.”

“They’re not,” John replies. “They’re just incredibly stupid and emotionally repressed.”

Felicity splutters, insulted. “John.”

“Oliver’s worse than Felicity,” John carries on, as if he and Evelyn are the only ones involved in this conversation. “But she’s still bad. The only excuse they get to use is that they share a very long, damaged history, and both have a lot of baggage.”

“Curtis was telling me. I hope they sort through it all. For the twins’ sake.”

“So do I.”

“Guys, I’m - I’m standing right here,” Felicity says.

“And yet you still can’t see what’s right in front of you,” Evelyn shakes her head.

She turns to John with a pleading expression, hoping he’ll explain. “John?”

“You two need to get your heads out of your asses by yourselves this time,” he sighs. “I’m not interfering. I can’t knock some sense back into you without the air being cleared between you. I’m sorry, Felicity. I don’t want you to suffer, but I don’t want to pressure you.”

Felicity does end up on the couch watching _Game of Thrones_ , another jumbo bag of Cheetos keeping her company, but she’s shaken. Oliver remains at the forefront of her thoughts. With everything John and Evelyn were talking about, she can’t help but feel like she’s missed something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: its the holiday season at city hall, but oliver's mood is dark. oliver and felicity finally have an important talk - one of many talks to come


	5. December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back for another chapter!!! thank you for all of your support, i really appreciate it, and all your comments have been amazing!!
> 
> a lot of you have been excited for today's chapter... olicity finally getting their heads out their asses and starting to have proper conversations about their feelings
> 
> trigger warning: discussion of PTSD

City Hall is bustling when Felicity arrives, everybody trying to get their hours in before their holiday vacations start. Lavishly decorated with red and gold garlands, the corridors and offices are simply screaming Christmas; there are holly wreaths on every door and mini pine trees wrapped in gold tinsel. Every employee Felicity sees has a Santa hat or reindeer antler headband on, and a good portion of them are wearing holiday-themed sweaters. Along with the Christmas decorations, there are also some silver Hanukkah decorations, which Felicity is pleased to see.

She isn’t here to enjoy City Hall’s holiday decor, though. Felicity is in search of Oliver. She took last night off from Overwatch duties, allowing Curtis a trial-run on managing comms, due to practically falling asleep on her feet and Oliver insisting she go home to rest before she passed out. As a result, however, she missed whatever huge argument occurred between Oliver and Rene after patrol.

Evelyn called her earlier this morning, admitting to her that once John and Rory, the usual rational and reasonable people in the bunker, departed for the night, Rene had gone off on Oliver. It had caused the archer to walk out and not return to the bunker since, even for his scheduled archery session with her.

Curtis provided more details; Oliver was attempting to help Rene gain back custody of his teenage daughter, Zoe, but Rene hadn’t turned up to any of the meetings with child protective services, Zoe’s social worker and the lawyers. Oliver asked him why, but Rene exploded at him, shouting that Oliver didn’t really care about any of their personal lives so should keep his nose out of it.

The recruit then went on to tell Oliver that he was too focused on Felicity and his unborn children than any of them or being the Green Arrow - and that was apparently why they were failing to track down and stop the Throwing Star Killer, or Prometheus as the media were starting to call him.

While Oliver was off helping save the world with Team Flash, Team Legends and Supergirl from the Dominators, Prometheus murdered four people. The serial killer slit a cop called Billy Malone’s throat last week directly in front of Oliver, using a green arrow; the serial killer tried to frame the Green Arrow for the policeman’s murder but thankfully Felicity managed to find and release CCTV footage of the encounter, proving Oliver’s innocence in the situation. Curtis told her that in their argument, Rene had blamed Oliver for Malone’s death still, claiming that if Oliver concentrated more on his duties to the city than unnecessarily fussing over Felicity, he would have been able to save him.

And to top it all off… Rene apparently yelled at Oliver that he was going to be a bad father to the twins.

_That_ was crossing a line. Felicity knows that Oliver can cope with his recruits undermining his authority and his decisions - Rene has been doing that since they brought him into Team Arrow - but a personal attack like that is not one the archer will be able to brush off lightly. Felicity isn’t surprised that Oliver ran off. He’s most likely very upset, and he always prefers to be alone when he’s in a depressed mood so he can brood and lose himself in his head.

She’s been trying to track him down since. He didn’t come home to the Loft last night and wasn’t there this morning, so Felicity’s come to City Hall to look for him. A short phone call to Sam informed Felicity that Oliver hasn’t called in sick today, so has to be in office somehow and somewhere. He has no planned meetings so shouldn’t be busy.

Felicity continues walking through City Hall, cradling her swollen belly and heading towards Oliver’s office. The crowd splits and steps back to allow her through, and she can feel people’s eyes boring into her back. She appears quite heavily pregnant at this point due to her thinner frame, despite being twenty weeks - but considering she’s carrying twins, she must look like she’s further along than she actually is. Everybody in the world is aware that she’s pregnant with Oliver Queen’s twins at this point. They released a press announcement as planned back in November which was received with a mixture of excitement and confusion, but overall, warmly.

The media has mostly been leaving them alone, as they requested in the statement, which is sort of relieving considering she and Oliver expected the vulture reporters and paparazzi to be harassing them constantly for photos. Felicity is well aware that people don’t believe the part of the statement about her and Oliver not being romantically involved; gossip websites have been going wild with speculation over how they are hiding their relationship. As long as they stay in their lanes and that gossip remains as speculation, Felicity doesn’t care beyond how it affects Oliver’s cautious attitude towards her.

“Miss Smoak, good morning!” Sam greets her cheerfully, as she approaches his desk. “Might I say, you’re positively glowing today.”

Felicity rolls her eyes, grinning as she shakes her head. “That’s very kind of you to say, but I know I look like death warmed over, Sam.”

“Not true,” Oliver’s assistant insists. “And don’t let Mayor Queen hear you saying that.”

“Speaking of Mayor Queen - is he in his office?”

Sam’s happy expressions shifts into a frown. “No. He departed around forty minutes ago claiming he needed to go and meet with Miss Queen, but hasn’t returned. The security team has confirmed he hasn’t left the building. Why? Is there something you need him for? Should I issue an emergency alert?” He reaches for his cell phone.

“No, no,” she reassures. Sam and Oliver have developed a system where the assistant texts a codeword indicating there’s a big problem that needs to be immediately dealt with, and Oliver calls him within ten minutes. She certainly doesn’t want to panic the archer if he’s already feeling low.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not an emergency, it’s okay. I just wanted to talk to him about… paint,” Felicity lies. “For the nursery. We ordered a custom blend but it didn’t come out how we envisioned it. He said he was going to contact the buyer about it.”

Sam quirks his eyebrows, interested. “What color did you go for, in the end? You and Mayor Queen spent hours going over those palettes.”

“Pastel mint green,” she reports. 

“So you went with your original suggestion?” Sam laughs. “Two weeks of debate, and you settled on first instincts… why am I not surprised?”

Felicity winks. “You know Oliver and me almost too well at this point, that’s why.” Stroking her hand over her baby bump, she tells him, “I’ll go and visit Thea, see if she’s seen her brother anywhere. Thanks for your help, Sam. Did Oliver invite you to our holiday party at the Loft next Saturday? We’re celebrating Hanukkah, Yule, Christmas and every other holiday, all at once.”

“He did,” the assistant nods. “I’d love to come. The invitation said plus one…”

“You can bring your husband and your kid, Sam,” Felicity smiles. “John and Lyla are bringing JJ, and he’s only a couple months older than Amy. The two of them can hang out and watch movies on my tablet. Saves you and Mark having to find a babysitter.”

“Thanks, Miss Smoak. See you later. I hope you find Mayor Queen.”

“I’ll send him back to his office once we’re finished. Bye Sam.”

Felicity heads back down the corridor, making a left turn so she can go and find Thea’s office, which is directly next to Quentin’s. If she’s visiting Oliver’s sister, she might as well visit his deputy mayor too. It’s possible that both of them might have seen the archer today, since they all work so closely together. They might have been able to gauge this mood too, which will give Felicity an indication of his current mental state.

When she spots Quentin and Thea, the two of them are gathered outside at their assistant’s desk, chatting to each other. Calling their names, Felicity waves and hurries towards them. Thea brightens at the sight of her, turning to wave back excitedly; the brunette is wearing an adorable white, blue and red patterned holiday sweater with fairy lights, and a Christmas pudding beanie. Quentin, who is dressed in a normal dark grey suit but with a blue reindeer print tie, raises a singular eyebrow at her approach, looking as if he’s struggling to hold back his chuckles of amusement.

Felicity snickers once she reaches them, placing a hand on the deputy mayor’s shoulder to brace herself while she gets her breath back, disguising it as her giving him a friendly greeting pat. “You can laugh, Quentin. I know I’m waddling. This is what happens when you balloon up to the size of a killer whale.”

“A killer whale?” he snorts. “You said you were a beluga last week.”

Felicity nods, caressing the swell of her stomach. “And every week, I’m getting bigger and bigger, and therefore morphing into a larger whale species. I’ll probably be a minke whale by Monday,” she muses. Her caress turns into her prodding her belly, wincing as the twins shift inside of her energetically. “These two are growing fast. I’m technically only halfway to full-term and I already feel like I’m about to burst. The perils of bearing twins, I guess.”

Thea shakes her head in mild disbelief. “I still can’t believe you and Ollie are having twins.”

“Yes, well, your brother never does anything in half measures.”

“Hey, you said they’re fraternal, which means that you _both_ went full throttle in the fertility department on this one.” Thea grimaces, immediately regretting what she just said. “And if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and gargle some bleach because I never want to think about Oliver or you in regards to fertility _ever_ again.”

Catching her by the arm, Felicity asks urgently, “Before you go and… gargle bleach, have you seen Oliver anywhere today?”

“Yeah, he visited me in my office half an hour ago for a couple of minutes,” Thea tells her, shrugging. “Haven’t seen him since.”

“I thought I heard him say something about needing Adrian to sign off on a report,” Quentin offers. “Adrian’s office is a floor down, at the end of the corridor to the right of the elevator. Might want to check in with him.”

“Thanks,” she smiles.

“What’s Ollie messed up now?” Thea asks, crossing her arms with a knowing look.

“Actually, it wasn’t Oliver who messed up; it was Rene, from what I understand,” Felicity sighs. “Long story short, Rene said some mean and unforgivable things to Oliver last night in the heat of an argument and I’m pretty sure Oliver’s still beating himself up over it.”

Thea’s curious expression transforms into one of realization and sadness. “Ah. That explains why he looked like he’s let a truck drive over him and he hasn’t slept in a week.”

“He hasn’t been sleeping well since the Dominators, I don’t think,” Felicity muses, partly talking to herself.

She’s woken up throughout the night due to the twins sitting on her bladder to find Oliver pacing back and forth in the living room like a caged tiger. She doesn’t quite understand or know what happened when Oliver and the others were captured up in that alien spaceship - John has told her some vague things, but she lacks enough detail to form a full picture of everything that occurred. Felicity can tell that whatever happened completely rattled Oliver though. It’s possible he was already on the verge of breaking down before his argument with Rene, and this has all just pushed him over the edge.

“I don’t think anybody has,” Thea says, her voice heavy. “What we saw was…” she breaks off, shuddering. “Ollie did seem sort of off when we were talking today.”

“Off how?” Felicity questions, swallowing anxiously.

Thinking over it for a second, Thea informs her carefully, “When my brother first got back from Lian Yu, during that first year he was… cold. Distanced. He always faked his smiles and seemed too distracted and uncaring to focus on family stuff. I thought he was just being selfish, but I realize now he was just trying to hide his internal chaos, struggling to cope with his PTSD.” Taking a deep breath, she admits, “He was acting like that today. All stony and aloof. Trapped in his own thoughts.”

Felicity flinches minutely. That’s exactly what she’s been afraid of. It’s always a challenge to help Oliver when he dives deep into that PTSD headspace.

“You always seem to help him when he’s like that,” Thea continues, a hopeful note to her voice. “Is that why you’re looking for him?”

“I just want to make sure he’s okay,” Felicity says truthfully. “And if he’s not… then yes, I’ll try and help him.”

The younger woman’s shoulders slump in relief. “Good. Let me know how things go if you find him? I have to go, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes… take care of my nieces and nephews.”

Felicity wrinkles her nose at that. “I’m carrying twins, not quadruplets. You’re not going to get plurals of both genders.”

“There’s always next time,” Thea winks as she slides back into her office.

Her heart palpitating in her chest, Felicity hastily replies in a stutter, “There’s not going to be a next time, Thea!”

Thea’s muffled evil laughter can be heard through the small gap in her office door as it closes, cutting off when the door finally shuts and the room becomes completely sound-proofed again.

“Ignore her, she’s just teasing you,” Quentin laughs. “You should probably get back to your Oliver search. I’ll see you at the holiday party on Saturday.”

She grins. “It’s always nice to see you, Quentin.”

“Same with you, sweetheart.”

Adrian’s sitting in his office working when Felicity arrives. “Miss Smoak, what a delight to have you visit,” he says in that smooth, honey-like voice of his, a twitch of a smirk on his lips as he rises from his seat to grasp her hand, a little too tightly. “Pregnancy has made you appear even more radiant than before. How are the twins faring?”

“They’re great. Healthy and huge, and already training in MMA and football,” she jokes.

“Isn’t that something?” Adrian doesn’t smile. “So everything’s going well?”

“Yeah, everything’s good. My doctor is pleased with how it’s all progressing. Oliver and I are super happy.”

“Super happy,” Adrian repeats, and for a second, Felicity thinks his spontaneous grin is too tight and might be forced, but then he relaxes, and she dismisses it as her reading him wrong. “That’s fantastic. You aren’t worried about the growing crime rate in the city? Being targeted because you’re carrying the mayor’s children?”

“Oliver has me under practically 24/7 guard,” she reassures him. “I’ve always got somebody watching out for me. Kidnappings will not be happening during this pregnancy, no sir. I had enough of that last year.”

“You have a bodyguard?” Adrian asks.

“John Diggle, Oliver’s old bodyguard and driver, has been making sure I’m safe. He beefed up the Loft with all of these new safety features, private CCTV, panic alarms… everything. I’m the computer expert, and even I think that biometric locks are excessive. I’m pregnant with the mayor’s twins, not a member of the royal family or a high-class celebrity. Oliver and John have very vigorous security protocols,” she rolls her eyes. 

A flicker of frustration and disappointment crosses Adrian’s face before he nods, once again smiling widely at her. “So what is it I can do for you? I doubt you came down here just to visit me.”

“Oh, I’m looking for Oliver, actually. Need to discuss nursery decorating. Have you seen him?”

The DA is only too eager to tell her that he saw Oliver only ten minutes ago, and that when he left, he was going away somewhere ‘to think things over’ - which means he’s going to the roof. When Felicity asks Adrian how he knows this, the man shrugs and says that he’s overheard security complaining about it before; the stairwell and doors to City Hall’s roof are usually locked and alarmed, only accessible to maintenance, and they don’t like that Oliver’s thinking space is one of the most inconvenient places in the building to keep an eye on his personal safety.

The DA helpfully points out the stairwell to her before departing for his lunch break. When Felicity approaches the doors, where there’s a security guy grumpily waiting with locks and keys in hand, obviously waiting for Oliver to come down, she flashes the man a sheepish smile, arching her back to emphasise her baby belly even more and saying she needs to talk to Oliver urgently about their ultrasound appointment next week. The security guard nods tiredly and lets her through, asking her to hurry up the mayor’s thinking session if possible.

Luckily, there are only two flights of stairs to the roof, otherwise Felicity isn’t sure she would have been able to make it. It takes her a good ten minutes to get up those two flights anyway, and she’s panting and sweating by the time she gets to the top, where a fire door opens out onto the flat roof. She’s definitely going to have words with Oliver later about his brooding spot, because he’s going to need to pick a different one with fewer steps and effort for her to get to it. Felicity is basically carrying a nearly two-pound house attached to her front at the moment that’s wrecked her back and hips, and ruined her coordination and freedom of movement. She shouldn’t have to be scaling flights of stairs.

Felicity pushes open the door, sliding out onto the roof. It takes her a second to find the archer, and when she does, her heart sinks with sympathy and a hint of pity. “Oh, Oliver…”

He’s sitting on the edge of the roof with his legs dangling off, looking utterly miserable. His hair, much longer than he usually grows it, sticks out at all angles, telling of him running his hands through it in frustration repeatedly. There’s a shadow to Oliver’s face caused by his exhaustion and dejection. Felicity keeps her steps as slow and quiet as she can as she walks up behind him.

“I’m going to try and sit down,” she tells him, wrapping her arms around her swollen stomach in preparation. “But this is going to be anything but graceful because, as you know, I am currently incubating your spawn and am the size of a whale, so you can’t watch. It’s embarrassing for me.”

Oliver doesn’t say anything for a moment, but then he turns and stands, his movements lethargic and somewhat reluctant. His expression is still despairing, but his gaze is focused on her and not on some random spot in the distance, so she’s hopefully helped ground him to the present a little already. He catches her elbow, but his grasp is gentle. Twisting Felicity around, one of his hand settles in the small of her back supportively as he leads her away.

“You shouldn’t be near the edge of the roof,” Oliver says, his voice rough. “C’mon. There are some deck chairs and a table over there for when people come up here to smoke. You don’t have to sit on the ground.”

“Oh thank god,” Felicity sighs. “I thought you were gonna make me, for a second there.”

She thinks she sees his lips twitch into a smile, but it’s gone before she can confirm it happened. Oliver waits until she’s seated on one of the deck chairs - it’s rather uncomfortable, but she’s not going to whine about it - before he sits on the other one, holding himself as stiff as a steel rod and lowering his eyes, as if he’s expecting her to start interrogating him. Felicity raises her chin slightly, observing the archer carefully; she needs to be cautious here in choosing which approach to take in getting him to talk, because if she chooses the wrong one, Oliver will clam up. He’s already opening himself to her with the way he’s sitting, angling his torso towards her instead of away like he does when he’s shutting off, so that’s a good sign. Being blunt instead of soft usually works when Felicity’s attempting to get into that thick skull of his, but considering how vulnerable and fragile she already knows the archer is, that doesn’t seem like the best idea.

“It’s a nice view of the city,” she starts, trying not to sound as if she’s about to fish for information from him. “How often do you come up here?”

“Only when I need somewhere quiet to think,” Oliver responds. “So very often.”

Felicity nods and then prompts gently, “What are you thinking about this time, then?”

“Who told you? Evelyn or Curtis?” he asks, answering her question with a question. He sounds resigned.

“Both of them,” she admits. Lying isn’t going to help matters, after all. “They explained… a little, of what happened. Of what was… said.” Pausing again, she adds, “You don’t have to speak about it if you don’t want to. I just think it might… help… to talk it over with somebody who wasn’t there for the argument. Somebody who might, perhaps, have a clearer perspective regarding all of this?”

“All of this,” Oliver echoes, his voice dead. Felicity manages to withhold her flinch. “And what is ‘all of this’?”

But Felicity knows from experience that this deflection, to get her to talk and not him, is just one of the archer’s patented defense mechanisms. “I’m not going to force you to tell me about it if you don’t want to, Oliver. We can sit here in silence for as long as you want it, if that’s what you’d prefer. But I do think it would help if you talked about it. It doesn’t have to be me you talk to - it could be anybody. John, or Thea, or Quentin. But cooping up all your emotions isn’t good for you, and you know that. It just makes things worse in the long-run.”

Oliver sighs heavily. “I know.” There’s a solid beat of silence, and then the archer confesses in a low, ashamed voice, “Rene said that I’m going to be a terrible dad to the twins. He was angry when he said it - Evelyn told me he didn’t mean it, and you’re probably going to insist that it’s not true… but there’s a part of me that believes it. I failed William as a father, and I’m scared - no, _petrified_ \- I’m going to fail the twins as well.” He runs his hand over his face.

“I don’t think you’re going to fail us,” she tries to reassure him.

Oliver shakes his head. “That seed of doubt has been planted, and now I can’t help but think it’s true. I feel like I haven’t been paying enough attention to you over this last month. I know things have been super busy, with the Dominator attack and City Hall and trying to catch Prometheus, but that’s no excuse to be neglecting you when you’re pregnant. And then last night, Rene blamed every misfire that’s happened recently on my focusing too much on you and the twins. I think I haven’t spent enough time on you - the recruits think I’m spending too much time… I can’t win, Felicity. I can never win. I’m an awful leader, a dreadful partner, and I’m going to be a horrible parent.” His voice drops to a depressed, defeated whisper, his expression grim and despairing. “Sometimes I wonder why you haven’t just up and left yet. There’s a part of me that’s afraid that once the twins are born, you’re going to realize that I’m not enough, and can and will never be enough for you and them… and you’re going to take the kids and run. It would be understandable if you did. The sensible thing to do.”

Felicity swallows and then exhales shakily, feeling slightly light-headed. It’s with a trembling hand that she reaches over to touch Oliver’s knee, stilling when he freezes at the contact, but then squeezing gently when he eventually relaxes. “I can tell you for certain that’s never going to happen, with a solid reason behind it,” she tells him.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“I’m terrified of losing you,” Felicity says honestly. “When I first told you about the pregnancy, you said that you’d think I would do great as a single mom. I wouldn’t. I’d be awful. I’m so scared of doing this alone. I wouldn’t have any idea what to do and I’d just mess the twins up trying to raise them by myself. I’ve thought about that a lot, actually; what would happen if you were gone, and I was alone with our children. I had to think about it, when you were taken by the Dominators.”

Oliver tilts his head at her. “I didn’t realize it affected you so much.”

“Are you kidding? I was _helpless_ down here running tech support for the teams; it was too dangerous for me to go out in the field and I just ended up hanging around the bunker or staying in the STAR Labs hanger most of the time. Everybody was fussing over me, from every single team, but all I cared about was _you_. All I knew was that you were out there, fighting for this entire planet against aliens, with a bunch of other superheroes surrounding you, sure, but ultimately still putting your life on the line. I was forced to contemplate what my life and the twins’ lives would be like without you here and… it was unthinkable, Oliver. It was awful.”

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “That I frightened you.”

“And the worst part was not being able to trust that you would come back, because you don’t trust _me_ , and -” Felicity cuts herself off, mumbling to herself, “No, Felicity. Now’s not the time for _that_ argument.” Sighing heavily, she continues, “Oliver, you think you’re already a failure of a father because of what happened with William, but that couldn’t be further from the truth; you made the best of a tricky situation and tried your best, and that’s what makes me sure that you’re going to be a great dad. So there is absolutely no way in hell I’m going to take the twins and run. If I’m going to be running anywhere… it’s going to be directly back to you. Just because we’re not together, doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you.” There’s a flare of hope in Oliver’s eyes and Felicity feels evil crushing it as she hastily adds, “In a physical and emotional sense. Not a romantic one.”

Oliver stares off across the rooftop, his shoulders hunched. His eyes flicker and his fingers twitch as he laces his fingers together in his lap. Felicity grimaces, annoyed at herself; she’s definitely said the wrong thing. He’s closing himself off to her again. Bringing up the fact that they are not in a relationship was a bad call.

“Do you ever think about what it would be like?” Oliver asks her quietly. “If you were pregnant with our twins… but we were still together? If I hadn’t lied to you about William and we were engaged to be married - probably married, at this point - and preparing for our children to be born?”

Felicity can hear the unspoken _If I hadn’t screwed up everything?_ It’s not something she can argue against. The archer did screw up. He screwed up immensely. He lied to her repeatedly, and hid things from her. He continued to travel back and forth from Central City in secret, even when Felicity was paralyzed and recovering from the limo attack. He left her, his fiancee, alone to go and visit his son, who he didn’t tell her about.

Oliver didn’t trust Felicity when she trusted him, he didn’t have faith in their trust in each other, and he _still_ doesn’t fully trust her.

He’s apologized for everything he did wrong and seems to recognize that he could have done things differently, but Felicity doesn’t know if there’s an apology possible to comfort her over all the wounds he gauged in her confidence - the direct impact his actions had playing on her abandonment issues.

Except now, after forgiving Oliver for keeping William secret because she can understand he did what he had to do as a parent under immense pressure… Felicity can see that Oliver is not the only person at fault for their relationship imploding. After all, Felicity’s the one who ultimately walked away and ended things, even though Oliver poured his heart out to her at their fake wedding and promised to try and be better, and never lie to her again. She’s the one who refused to discuss their problems and attempt to find solutions to them, when Oliver suggested it after their one-night-stand in the bunker. She isn’t ready to delve back into sorting things out between them romantically, when Oliver essentially is, because she needs _time_. It’s been months, but Felicity doesn’t feel ready yet. So in reality… they are both to blame for how they split up.

“Of course I do,” she answers eventually, stroking tenderly over her belly. “When we’re living together in the Loft, how can I not? We flourished as a couple there. Our relationship was a good one, Oliver, it just ended badly. Now our kids are going to grow up within those walls.” She sneaks him a glance, catching sight of the wistful expression on his face. “I know you think about it too.”

“You do?”

Felicity hesitates. If they are going to be spilling truths today, she might as well come completely clean. “Back in September, you and John were talking on a Skype call, about how you feel now you’re back living with me in the Loft. About feeling… suffocated, being reminded of what we used to have together. You thought I was asleep on the couch but I… I overheard. Do you remember?”

Judging by Oliver’s mortified look, he remembers exactly which conversation she’s referring to. She bites her lip, waiting for him to respond, but after a moment the only acknowledgment he gives is a faint, “Oh.”

“It’s okay, for you to feel like that. Sometimes I feel like that as well. It’s difficult not to reminisce about the happy times when so many shattered pieces from our relationship are scattered around the Loft. I mean, the pink ostrich feathers from our engagement party are still shoved in that stupid ugly vase with the fake orchids in the corner of the kitchen, Oliver.”

He cracks a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They’re giant; they’re kind of hard to ignore.”

“And you said that you don’t think you’ll ever be worthy of being loved, but - that’s not true.” His eyes widen, but he doesn’t respond. Felicity tightens her grip around his hand, her heart pounding. “You think I don’t love you anymore. That I won’t love you. You know that’s not true either, right?”

“Please, Felicity, stop. Stop dangling maybes,” he whispers, his voice haunted.

That phrase slams into her like a freight train, shocking her breathless.

_As soon as we talk, it's over._

_I'm so sorry. I thought that I could be me and the Arrow... But I can't. Not now. Maybe not ever._

_Then say never. Stop... Dangling maybes. Say it's never going to work out between us. Say you never loved me, say you-_

“Don't ask me to say that I don't love you,” Felicity murmurs.

Oliver doesn’t look at her. He stares at the ground, his eyes suspiciously wet. “Are you ready to Talk yet?” he asks.

Felicity repeats the question in her mind, to herself. Because when he asks if she’s ready to Talk, he means a very specific Conversation. One about trust, and lack of it. She doesn’t have a response beyond - “I don’t know,” she breathes. “But I _do_ know that I don’t want things to continue the way they have been.”

There’s a beat and then Oliver questions quietly, “What do you mean?”

“We can’t keep dancing around each other and ignoring our feelings. I think we’ve been trying so hard to _not_ be in a relationship that we haven’t allowed natural communication between us anymore. We’re best friends, Oliver. We were best friends long before we were together. I just… I don’t want things to feel stunted or awkward. I don’t want us to tip-toe around each other and pretend everything’s fine when it’s not.”

“I thought things have been okay between us recently,” Oliver mutters.

“So did I,” she admits. “But I don’t think they ever have been, truly.”

She jumps when she feels Oliver’s hand beneath her own move, twisting around so they’re palm to palm and he can entwine their fingers. “Maybe now we can make things better than okay,” he offers. “That’s what the twins deserve.”

“That’s what _we all_ deserve,” Felicity corrects softly. A shy smile on her lips, she continues, more seriously, “So I’ll be having a talk with Rene tomorrow about anger management and respect. I told you when we first took on the recruits for training that it’s Oliver Queen, not the Green Arrow, who makes a great leader. It’s Oliver Queen, with all his personal attachments and sentimentality and emotions, who is an excellent partner. I wouldn't change him for the world. You certainly didn’t deserve all those horrible things Rene yelled at you yesterday night.”

Oliver sits back in his chair, blowing out slowly and closing his eyes. He looks weary, like the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders, but he no longer appears as crestfallen as before, which Felicity counts as a win. “I deserved some of them,” he says. “Rene is right. I’ve failed to apprehend Prometheus thus far because I have been focusing on things other than tracking him down. Time to get my head back in the game.”

“Tomorrow,” Felicity compromises. “Take tonight off. In fact, take the rest of the day off. I’ll text Sam and tell him you were sick. We can go home, eat chicken nuggets, watch _The Princess Bride_ again, bake cupcakes, eat chicken nuggets, talk to the twins since their hearing is now sensitive enough to recognize our individual voices, eat chicken nuggets -”

“Felicity, by any chance, are you developing a craving for chicken nuggets?” Oliver interrupts her, finally grinning.

“Did you not notice that the two bags of fifty chicken nuggets you bought at the weekend have already vanished?”

“You ate one hundred chicken nuggets in three days?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I could eat one hundred chicken nuggets in three days before I was pregnant,” Felicity laughs. “We will need to pick up more on the way back.”

“Without a doubt,” Oliver nods. “For once, I will approve of a trip to McDonald's.” He stands, stretching out with a pained expression that tells of his aching muscles and exhaustion. “Come on then. Don’t think I didn’t hear what you said about the twins being able to hear us now. I’m going to be chatting to them all evening. You’re not going to be able to shut me up.”

“And normally I’m trying to get you to talk,” Felicity jokes.

He chuckles along with her, but when the archer meets her eyes, his gaze is relieved and grateful. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “For letting me talk… for listening… for everything you said after.”

“You’re welcome,” she gives him a lopsided smile. “Long overdue, I think.” He nods again, helping her to her feet carefully and then leading her by the hand back to the door that leads down from the roof. “And, um, Oliver?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to be an amazing dad to the twins,” she tells him honestly. “If there’s one thing in the world I’m absolutely sure of at the moment… it’s that. I trust that whatever happens, you’ll always try your hardest to come home safe for them.”

“And for you,” Oliver says. 

She nods, leaning up on her tiptoes to drop a gentle kiss to his cheek. “And for me.”

“And the Talk?” he asks hesitantly.

“I’m not ready for the Talk… yet. Not right now. But, um. I should be, soon. Before the twins are born, hopefully. If we haven’t had the Talk by April, feel free to lock us in a room and refuse to let me out until we’ve spoken through everything properly.”

Oliver regards her cautiously and then exhales shakily, bobbing his head in yet another nod. “Okay. Chicken nuggets?”

“Chicken nuggets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: genders are revealed at the 2nd ultrasound, oliver finds out felicity has been fulfilling a drunken wish he made, behind his back, and... one thing leads to another, resulting in olicity sharing a bed


	6. January

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short note for today! thank you so much for all your wonderful continuing support. this chapter has been... a long time coming. i hope you enjoy it! make sure you leave a comment if you have feelings about it :)
> 
> **this chapter is rated M for _spoilers!!!_**
> 
> (this is probably the one and only time i will ever write ~scenes~ like this so pls appreciate it now and pls respect that i don't want to write scenes like this again. pls dont demand them in the comments. i am Tired)

Twenty four weeks pregnant now and nearly a month late for her second ultrasound, Felicity is desperately trying to ignore the urge to pee and her hunger. It’s early evening and she and Oliver are waiting in their usual hospital room in Star City General for Dr Schwartz to arrive. The doctor is currently dealing with an emergency in the ER, but the nurse on duty has assured them that it shouldn’t take longer than ten minutes to deal with.

As a result of the wait, however, Felicity’s bladder is feeling uncomfortably full and her stomach is painfully empty. She was asked not to eat for six hours before the ultrasound, meaning at this point she’s starving and her cravings, which have kicked into full force, are driving her insane. She was also ordered to drink a whole bottle of water to make the sonogram images clearer. She can’t relieve herself until the ultrasound is over.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore,” she bursts out, jumping to her feet, teetering back and forth. “I need to pee _so bad right now_. The potatoes are rolling around in there and putting so much pressure on my bladder, if I don’t go to the bathroom in the five minutes I’m going to piss myself.”

“Don’t you dare, Miss Smoak!” Dr Schwartz finally saunters in. “Five minutes, you said? We’ll rush through this then.”

“No, no, we are _not_ rushing through this.” Oliver shoots Felicity a half-hearted glare, and then a more intense glower at the doctor. “We’ve waited three weeks for this appointment.”

“Only because we missed the first one,” Felicity grumbles.

To be fair, it isn’t any of their faults that they missed their actual scheduled ultrasound appointment. The night of their holiday party at the Loft, Prometheus struck again. To all of Team Arrow’s horror, he kidnapped a young pregnant couple. It took days to track down where Prometheus took them to, and during that time, Felicity and Oliver were too focused on their mission to book another appointment; the boyfriend was already dead by the time they found them, but the pregnant girlfriend was, by some miracle, discovered alive, if not malnourished and utterly terrified.

That was scary, for both Felicity and Oliver. Prometheus seemed to have purposely targeted the couple because the girl was pregnant. What was even more alarming was the fact that the woman had blonde hair and glasses, just like Felicity. 

John tried to reassure them that it was probably just a coincidence. Prometheus doesn’t know that Oliver is the Green Arrow, or that Felicity is Overwatch. He hasn’t shown interest in targeting the mayor before, so why would he be specifically going after pregnant couples like them, or women that closely resemble Felicity? Oliver still isn’t sure and is even more paranoid than before - he helped John to increase all of the security around the Loft and the bunker, just in case, and asked Felicity to keep a tracker on her at all times, and allow him to track her cell phone as well. Is it excessive? Most likely. But they aren’t taking any chances.

Only the day after rescuing that woman, Felicity and Oliver were astonished to arrive home to find Donna Smoak in the Loft, screaming excitedly about becoming a grandma. Thea told her as a Hanukkah present, and she’d apparently wanted to travel up to Star City ever since, but she hadn’t been able to get any vacation time to come and visit. Donna ended up staying for ten days, and during her stay, Felicity didn’t dare bring up the ultrasound appointment, because she knew that her mother would be desperate to come. Although it wouldn’t be awful to have Donna there, Felicity would prefer it be for just her and Oliver.

Today is the only day that Dr Schwartz can fit them into her busy schedule. It’s not as if they’ve been completely out of touch with the doctor. They’ve had several check-ups over the phone since their first ultrasound, going into explicit detail about symptoms, with Oliver taking Felicity’s vitals - since Felicity is pregnant with twins, she needs to be monitored more closely - but it doesn’t seem like the extra attention is needed; she and the babies are perfectly healthy.

“You know the drill,” the doctor says, as she washes her hands and begins getting the sonograph ready. “Seeing as you’re not already wearing scrubs that the nurse would have offered you, you’re okay with these clothes accidentally getting ultrasound gel on them?”

Felicity peers down at herself, maneuvering her bulging belly so she can look at her legs and feet. She’s actually wearing pajamas, but since they’re such a fancy pair and she’s wearing Oliver’s jacket over the top, nobody can tell. The only reason she’s wearing the archer’s coat is that it’s the middle of winter, freezing cold and nearly snowing outside, and her jacket isn’t thick enough. Her temperature’s all over the place because of the pregnancy; on the way out of the Loft’s front door, Felicity felt way too hot so didn’t grab a hoodie to go under her jacket, but as soon as they were outside the hospital, she was shivering.

“I’m good,” she answers. “Well no, I’m not. I need to pee. Like, it’s agonizing at this point.”

“Okay, get yourself up on that medical bed,” Dr Schwartz chuckles, amused. “Mr Queen, you might want to help her. It can’t be easy to climb things when you’re that big.”

“See, even Dr Schwartz agrees that I’m huge!” Felicity huffs, struggling to get up onto the bed even with Oliver’s hands on her waist, lifting her effortlessly. “I’m putting on two and a half pounds a week, Oliver. These twins are going to come out as giants. Those are your stupid Queen genetics.”

“Are you seriously going to start on this argument again?” he laughs. “Just because I’m tall, doesn’t mean -”

“Yes, you are tall, stupidly tall! You’re 6 foot 1, that’s huge!”

“Maybe to you, because you’re so short,” Oliver teases. “But to the rest of the world, I’m only just above average height.”

Felicity pokes him in the chest. “Excuse me, I am a very respectable height of 5 foot 5. But I wouldn’t be surprised if these twins end up being taller than you. Imagine that, Oliver. Our kids towering above us both as 6 foot 5 human mountains. We’ll never be able to discipline them properly!”

Once Felicity is situated and comfortable lying down on the bed, her shirt tucked under her painfully swollen breasts and pajama bottoms pushed down to the top of her thighs, the doctor runs her through the usual questions. Felicity reports the pregnancy’s progress with all the side effects she’s been having, complaining about how heavy the twins have become, the stretch marks they’re causing and the inconvenience of having to sleep on her side. Dr Schwartz is particularly entertained when Felicity tells her about her mint chip ice cream cravings. Everything seems fine, according to the doctor, so they move on from checking Felicity’s general health to the ultrasound.

“Come on then, tell me your predictions,” Dr Schwartz says, applying warm gel to Felicity’s belly and fixing her attention to the screen as she begins to move the wand around. Felicity has no view of it, and neither does Oliver, from where he’s seated beside her, holding her hand. They both know Dr Schwartz will turn it around once she gets a good image though. “I’m guessing that the two of you must have a bet going on the genders of these babies.”

Oliver nods, his fingers twitching nervously around Felicity’s. “John is involved as well, actually. I think it’s going to be twin girls.”

“How come?”

The archer flashes a very simple happy smile, his eyes bright. “I’d like it if it were two girls.”

The doctor laughs. “And you, Miss Smoak?”

She raises her chin at the same time she quirks an eyebrow, smirking. “Using _scientific reasoning_ and _evidence_ based on sperm morphology, sex chromosome variation, hormone levels and knowledge of Oliver’s paternal lineage, which I have collated and written into a four-page essay that is currently located in my purse, if you wish to take a look… I have determined without a doubt that it will be twin boys.” Much to Felicity’s delight, Dr Schwartz appears impressed.

“You don’t have to sound so smug,” Oliver replies, frowning at her and folding his arms over his chest sulkily.

“I’m not smug, I’m _confident_ ,” Felicity says, prodding him in the shoulder. She’s started doing that a lot more often, she’s noticed. Gentle, teasing touches, similar to the ones she used to give him when they were together. It’s because they’ve become much more comfortable with each other recently. “There’s a difference.”

Still working on the sonogram, Dr Schwartz asks curiously, “Did you take into account the study that was released recently about familial recurrence of gender-balanced fraternal twins?”

Felicity scoffs, almost insulted that the doctor thinks she didn’t. She’s spent hours doing reproductive research in her spare time - usually when she’s bored in the bunker or waiting for Oliver to cook dinner - and she needed to read dozens of primary articles to write her essay, which took three days to finish. “Of course! But based on the length of Oliver’s Y chromosome and the ancestry of the Queen family - which, I have confirmed, indicates twin boys are more genetically probable - I ruled out gender-balanced twins as an option.”

“Meaning that twin girls are still on the table!” Oliver pipes up hopefully.

She rolls her eyes. “You wish, Oliver.” There’s such a low chance of that happening that it’s more likely Felicity is going to give birth to triplets instead of twins.

Dr Schwartz stifles her laughter with her hand, finally turning the screen around so they can see their offspring. The picture that greets them is mind-blowingly insane. The twins look like fully-formed babies; they’re reaching out to each other with tiny hands, their legs kicking back and forth against their mother’s uterus walls. One of them, with their free hand, appears to be sucking their thumb. The other has their arm extended down, as if trying to grab their little feet. Felicity stares in awe, and a quick glance over at Oliver confirms that his face has been overtaken by an expression of utter wonder.

“Well, you’re both wrong,” the doctor tells them, pointing to each of the twins. “Congratulations, Mom and Dad, you’re the parents to a baby boy and a baby girl. I’m guessing Mr Diggle wins this bet.”

Felicity’s jaw drops. Wait, a boy and a girl? But she was so sure that - “What!? But - that’s not - _I wrote a four-page essay!_ ”

“And nature never ends up matching our statistical predictions,” Dr Schwartz grins.

Scowling, Felicity can’t help but feel annoyed that she put so much effort into research and writing her essay when it turns out she’s wrong. Her confusion and irritation fade, however, when she sees the overjoyed expression on Oliver’s face, and instead Felicity finds herself smiling at his sheer enthusiasm.

“Tommy and Mia,” he breathes, with a mega-Watt grin and his eyes shining.

“Tommy and Mia,” Felicity confirms. Her heart feels full, bloated with happiness. It’s strange but also amazing knowing the genders and being able to give the babies names, because now the twins feel like actual _people_ in her mind.

Catching onto the use of the names, Dr Schwartz begins pointing out certain features of both of the individual babies. Tommy, the boy, appears to be slightly larger in size that Mia, his sister, but the doctor reckons that they’ll both be quite even weights by the time they’re born. Mia is definitely the most active and more rambunctious baby of the pair, constantly kicking and punching, so she’s definitely inherited some of her father’s parkour genes.

Dr Schwartz prints them some mini sonogram photos to add to their collection, and when Oliver requests it, prints an A4 sized one on glossy photo paper, as the archer wants to get it framed and mounted on the wall of the nursery he’s started to paint. Felicity is finally, much to her relief, allowed to go to the bathroom. Due to a flock of reporters apparently waiting outside the main entrance and exit of the hospital waiting for them to emerge, they head to the hospital’s staff parking lot to catch an Uber back to the Loft.

Felicity curls up on the couch with a blanket over her legs as Oliver begins to scrounge up some mac and cheese for dinner. She experimentally places her palms over her swollen belly in different places, trying to feel the twins kick or punch. Occasionally, she thinks she can feel little flutters of movement beneath her skin, but then wonders whether or not that’s just her mind running off the internal sensations she’s feeling. Once she’s satisfied with that, and sees that Oliver is suitably distracted frying bacon lardons and grating cheese, Felicity rolls over to reach beneath the couch and fetch a tablet she’s hidden under there.

She’s been keeping tabs on Samantha and William for the last two weeks. During the team’s New Years party, John somehow managed to get Oliver drunk enough for the archer to admit that he really wants to check up on his son and see how he’s doing, but is too scared to take that first step, lest it lead him back into William’s life, as he’s sure he would ruin it. Felicity, being the only sober person at the party, heard the longing and sadness in her partner’s voice, and decided to take that first step for him.

She’s finally managed to track Samantha and William down in the FBI witness protection program they’ve been set up in, and now she knows their cover names, she can keep up to date on how Oliver’s son is doing. Is the archer aware that she is doing this? No. Not yet. Felicity is sort of scared of telling him, because she isn’t sure what his reaction is going to be.

Maybe it’s inappropriate for Felicity to be doing this, considering she and Oliver aren’t together anymore, but their relationship - their _friendship_ \- has massively improved since Christmas, after their talk on the roof of City Hall. They’ve stopped being so cautious around each other and truly relaxed in their conversations and interactions, which everybody seems to have realized, because Evelyn and Rory keep asking if they’ve finally got their heads out of their asses and got back together. If there’s romantic or sexual tension between them, Felicity has to admit that it’s her fault.

Her pregnancy hormones have made her incredibly horny recently, and considering she’s five months pregnant and living platonically with her ex-fiance, who also happens to be the father of her unborn twins, she can’t exactly go on dates and have one-night-stands to sort this issue out. That doesn’t sound particularly appealing to Felicity anyway; she’s not really a spontaneous hook-up sort of girl. The incident in the bunker was a one-off, and doesn’t count since it was with Oliver. Masturbation is the only solution she can find to her horniness problem, and even that is pretty terrible, as the size of her baby bump makes things very difficult.

As a result of that, however, she’s turned her sexual frustrations onto Oliver; he’s an extremely attractive man who is always around, quite often shirtless and sweaty since he’s working out and training a lot in the bunker, who she used to have sex with on a very regular basis - and it was spectacular sex. She misses it. She dreams about it. Often.

Felicity catches herself staring at Oliver’s ass hungrily when she finally snaps back to the present. Immediately blushing in embarrassment, she clears her throat lightly and turns her attention back to her tablet, which is currently displaying William’s latest school test results.

“Opinion on garlic at the moment?” Oliver calls from the kitchen.

“Love it,” she shouts back.

“Cilantro?”

“Burn it in the fiery pits of hell!”

He laughs. “Thank you.”

“Thank your son and daughter for having such strong opinions on food,” Felicity responds. The gravity of that sentence lands and she tips her head back against the couch cushions with a chuckle. “It’s weird saying that. Knowing the genders is weird.”

“It’s even stranger knowing their names,” Oliver counters.

Trying to sit up straighter, Felicity asks cautiously, “Are we certain we want to go with Thomas and Mia, rather than Lucas and Adeline?”

“We had Tommy and Mia picked out way before Lucas and Adeline,” the archer replies. He dusts off his hands after sliding the cast iron pan containing the mixed up macaroni, seasoned cheesy bechamel sauce and bacon lardons, all topped off with breadcrumbs, into the oven.

“That’s true,” Felicity sighs. “Are we keeping the genders and our picked out names to ourselves, or are we telling the team?”

Oliver lifts Felicity’s legs up so he can slide beneath them, starting to gently massage her feet. Felicity’s eyes almost roll into the back of her head because god, that feels heavenly. She drops her tablet onto her chest so she can bask. “I think we should keep it secret until they’re born. Hopefully John won’t care about the money we owe him for winning the bet when these little ones are here.” He extends a hand to brush over her stomach in a tender caress.

“It’s fifty dollars, he isn’t going to forget.”

“But he might forgive.” Oliver’s hand rises from her belly to snag the edge of her tablet. “What are you doing? Working? I thought we agreed on no work past 7pm.”

“ _NOTHING!_ ” Felicity squeaks, panicking. She quickly stuffs the tablet behind her back, stopping the archer from reaching it. “Not working! I promise!”

Oliver shoots her a warning look. “Felicity...” He maneuvers himself swiftly so he can snake his arm along her side, once again grabbing the tablet, trying to pull it towards him. Kicking her legs to try and deter him in her alarm, Felicity grasps his hand and shoves it away. “Felicity, give it here!”

“I promise I’m not working on it!” she claims again.

“I don’t believe you!” Oliver argues.

“Stop it! You’re tickling me! Oliver!”

“Serves you right for working when you know you’re not supposed to be!”

He continues trying to get a hold of the tablet, and Felicity’s attempts to push him away continue to fail. After two minutes of struggling, the blonde is panting, out of breath. She’s already exhausted after a long day of incubating her and Oliver’s spawn and this sudden physical exercise is just tiring her out more.

But her fatigue blends with her horniness as Oliver’s hips fall between her legs and he stretches out over her; a familiar heat blossoms within her lower abdomen - just beneath where the twins are curled up in her womb - that both excites and terrifies her at the same time. Because she _cannot_ feel like this about Oliver, she _refuses_ to feel like this. Before, just looking at him and admiring his body and dreaming about him… that was fine. But this? Having him physically splayed out on _top_ of her? Her legs itch with the instinct to wrap them around his waist and now her scared gaze is flickering up to his lips which are looking so, so _fucking kissable_ -

“Oliver, stop,” Felicity gasps, her hands firmly on his chest and pressing him back. “ _Stop_ , get off. Please.”

He immediately retreats. The concerned look on his face makes him look even hotter and Felicity rolls off the couch, frantically trying to put as much space between them as possible before she does something she’ll regret because of her stupid, raging sex-hungry pregnancy hormones. Waddling over to the kitchen with Oliver following closely behind at her heels, Felicity only feels safe once she’s behind the table, with the counter separating the two of them.

“I’m sorry,” the archer says, his tone worried. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to crush you.”

“You didn’t,” she assures. Felicity keeps her eyes lowered to the countertop, hoping that Oliver doesn’t see the flush of her cheeks or antsy shifting from swollen foot to foot. “I’m, um, just a little more claustrophobic considering I’ve got this house attached to me now.” She gestures down at her stomach. It’s a blatant lie but she feels far too awkward about this situation to tell the truth.

Oliver appears guilty. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”

“I’m fine. Just - conscious of my personal space,” she waves her hand in the air around her.

Thoughtfully, the archer nods. “So if you’re okay, I can take a look at your tablet that you absolutely weren’t working on?” he asks, rather craftily.

Felicity stares at him. He stares back.

There’s no way of getting out of this, Felicity realizes. Oliver has been destined to find out about her snooping around the witness protection files of his son ever since she started doing this. She can’t hide this from him. If she tries to, and Oliver finds out later that she did, he’ll undoubtedly feel betrayed and upset.

“You have to let me explain,” she says quietly. “I promise, I was planning on telling you.”

Oliver’s teasing smile drops. “Felicity.”

“Please,” she pleads.

“What’s going on?”

She bites her lip and lowers her eyes again, too nervous to say anything. The archer remains staring at her for another minute before he crosses the room silently, bending over to pick up the tablet. He already knows her passcode, despite it being eight numbers long, and Felicity tries to stay calm and not hyperventilate as he reads. Stroking over her belly, Felicity focuses on the flutters caused by the twins’ minute movements instead of her panic and fear that Oliver might react badly.

“These are William and Samantha’s witness protection files?” he finally asks, his voice scarily calm.

Felicity gulps. “Yeah.”

Oliver nods, swiping his finger on the tablet screen to flick through the documents. It’s incredibly hard to gauge his emotions when he’s plastered that mask over his face, but by examining his body language, Felicity is relieved to see that he’s not furious. It’s not anger she can sense from him; it’s confusion and slight anxiety.

“I’m not going to ask how, because it’s _you_ ,” the archer says, glancing up at her. “So instead I’m going to ask how long?”

“How long have I been keeping an eye on William and Samantha by hacking their FBI Witsec files?” Felicity drums her fingers along the kitchen counter nervously, slowly moving out from behind it so she can take a seat in one of the chairs. She drops down into it with a wince, cradling her stomach. “Um. Ever since you mentioned at the New Years party that you wanted to check up on how William’s doing.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t remember that.”

“You were pretty drunk,” she admits.

“I thought we established last summer that anything I do or say under the influence of alcohol should be considered a mistake,” Oliver says flatly.

Felicity flinches. Before, she would have agreed with him that their hook-up in the bunker was a mistake, but now she’s pregnant with the twins, calling that night a mistake feels like they’re also calling their children mistakes. “You can still be sincere when under the influence,” she replies. “And I know what you said at New Years was true.”

A fleeting pained expression flashes over Oliver’s face. “What else did I say at New Years that I don’t remember?”

“You’re terrified of taking that first step and checking up on William because you think you’ve failed him and will ruin his life further if you get at all involved.”

He doesn’t disagree. “I need to stop letting John get me drunk on his Scotch whiskey,” Oliver mutters. “You can stop looking at me like that, Felicity. I’m not going to yell at you.”

She blinks, surprised. “You’re not?” She was so certain that even if he wasn’t angry, he would be annoyed.

Shaking his head, Oliver tells her, “It’s kind of comforting to know somebody from our side in Star City has been looking out for them. I can’t imagine Samantha and William will ever be completely safe, even in witness protection… but if you’re keeping an eye on them and making sure they’re okay, they’re automatically going to be much safer.”

“So you’re okay with it?”

“I’m okay.” Oliver looks up at her with a smile. “Actually, quite thankful. Thank you, Felicity. For looking out for my son for me. When I didn’t think I had the place to, but wanted to. It was very thoughtful of you, and I’m appreciative.” Felicity immediately slumps, exhaling. Sliding into one of the chairs beside her, the archer places a hand on her shoulder gently. “I understand why you didn’t want to tell me straight away as well. ”

Finally fully relaxing, Felicity tugs at a couple of stray strands of her blonde hair, comfortable enough to maintain eye contact now that she knows Oliver is fine with the whole situation. “Thank you.” Scooting her chair closer to the archer, she pulls his arm down to tap on her tablet, opening some other documents up. “Here. William’s part of an extra credit program at his school working on an ecology project right now… they took some photos of him for marketing purposes, but they obviously weren’t released because of his Witsec status.”

Oliver’s eyes are wide as he stares down at the pictures of his eleven-year-old son smiling toothily at the camera in his white lab coat while holding a garter snake. “He’s so big now,” he whispers. “I know it’s only been a year since I last saw him, but… he’s grown so much in that short amount of time.”

“Where he and Samantha are living, there’s been a lot of sun recently, so he’s got these blond-ish lighter streaks in his hair,” Felicity points out, her voice soft. “I think they make him look a lot like you, when you were younger.” Cradling her belly, she adds, “I hope Tommy gets those highlights in his hair as well. It’s a classic Queen boy trait.”

They continue going through William’s file as they enjoy dinner together. Felicity loves hearing the archer talk animatedly about his son’s great school grades and baseball scores, hoping that the genuinely joyful grin on Oliver’s face lasts for the rest of the evening. Despite being mostly distracted by her best friend’s amazing mac and cheese - Felicity is pretty sure she’s been craving sharp cheddar cheese because of the twins without even realizing it - she nods along and listens attentively to him ponder aloud about his son’s social life.

For a brief moment, Oliver wilts and falls silent; Felicity can tell he’s thinking about what William’s life would be like if the archer was present to act as a father. How different it might be if he were actively involved in raising the teenager. But then Oliver shakes himself out of it, and although his plucky attitude has been somewhat dimmed, he still seems glad to be checking in on how William is generally doing.

After they finish dinner and Felicity devours a pint of mint chip ice cream for dessert, she retires to bed, tired by the day’s events. Oliver brings her a glass of water for her bedside and a heated blanket for her aching back. Her heart is warmed when he kneels down to whisper goodnight to the twins, and Felicity ruffles his hair, commenting on his adorable behavior; that makes the archer blush and he reminds her to call if she needs anything before leaving her bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Felicity is able to fall asleep quickly, much to her relief, but barely remains sleeping for long. Within less than half an hour, she wakes up with a terrified scream bubbling in her throat, soaked in sweat and curled up to try and shield her baby bump. Her nightmare hovers at the forefront of her mind; she shudders and muffles her sobs in her pillow as she tries to banish those images of Malcolm Merlyn, Slade Wilson, and Ra’s Al Ghul torturing her with the sole aim of killing the babies growing inside of her, but fails.

A hand falling on her waist causes her to jump and scream.

“Hey! Hey, it’s just me, Felicity, it’s okay,” Oliver tries to reassure her, cupping her pale face between his hot palms. He quickly switches her bedside lamp on, making her recoil from the brightness that assaults her eyes, as he perches on the edge of the mattress. “You’re alright, everything is fine. You’re safe. It was just a nightmare.”

“Move,” she chokes out, her stomach doing somersaults.

“What?”

“I’m going to be sick and I don’t want to vomit on you.”

Oliver swiftly shifts so she can clamber off the bed and rush to the bathroom. Felicity just manages to get there in time before she’s falling onto her knees with a wince and a groan of pain, throwing up. Her insides clench agonisingly as she continues to be sick, her arms wrapped around her swollen stomach. Gentle fingers sweep her loose hair back from her face into a ponytail, and Felicity fully leans into Oliver’s body as he rests up against her, murmuring soothing words. It’s somewhat calming to have the archer here supporting her. She hasn’t suffered from much morning sickness with this pregnancy so he hasn’t had to do this for her very often, but it’s nice to know that he does appear comfortable doing this for her if she suddenly does develop it and starts throwing up all the time, even this late on.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, once she finally feels a little better.

“It’s okay,” Oliver responds softly. “One second.” He vanishes from her side only to return promptly, the glass of water in hand. “Here. Swill your mouth out.”

She does so, and brushes her teeth quickly for good measure. Felicity’s legs feel weak beneath her, which Oliver appears to realize, as he stands behind her with his hands resting on her hips, ready to catch her if she falls over. Flickers of heat in her abdomen burst into life again at his touch; gritting her teeth and trying to ignore them, she rinses her mouth out once more before turning around.

The archer is glancing over her with a careful, considering expression. His blue eyes glimmer with concern as he questions, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she replies hastily, padding back to bed. She fluffs her pillows and twists around before flopping down onto her comforter, sighing heavily. She would love nothing more than to face-plant onto the mattress at the moment in all her exhaustion, but her twenty four week baby belly makes that impossible. “It’s nothing differentiating from the norm.”

“The norm?” Oliver repeats, following her. “Felicity, how often do you have these nightmares?”

Felicity hesitates, but admits, “At least once a week.” She’s been having dreams about losing the twins in some manner or another since their first ultrasound. It’s only since Prometheus targeted that pregnant woman that she’s been having nightmares specifically about being assaulted by various villains they’ve faced in the past. “They don’t usually wake me up though.”

“But you have been sleeping poorly?” He narrows his eyes. “Why didn’t you mention this to Dr Schwartz?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Felicity insists, yawning. “Look, Oliver, it’s really common for pregnant women to get vivid dreams. I’m tired - I just wanna get back to sleep.”

Oliver doesn’t appear happy with her decision, but lifts the covers so she can slide under them, relenting to her pleading expression. Before the archer can turn the lamp off, however, casting Felicity back into darkness, she snags his wrist, stopping him from doing so. Being plunged into the black so soon after a nightmare where she was barely able to see while being tortured by some of her and Oliver’s worst enemies terrified her.

“Felicity?” Oliver somehow manages to say her name in such a way that it can represent a dozen different sentences and questions. In this instance, Felicity knows that he’s asking her, without asking, what’s wrong, and why she doesn’t want him to turn the lights off.

She feels awkward and strange requesting this of him, especially since they haven’t shared at actual bed for over a year now (the bunker doesn’t count since they slept together but on those training mats, not a cot) since breaking off their relationship, but Felicity hesitantly says, a slight tremor in her voice, “Could you please stay until I fall asleep?”

If Oliver is surprised, he masks it well. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want to be alone in the dark,” she admits. “And I know I’m not technically alone because I have the twins but - well -” rubbing small circles over her belly, she finishes weakly, “It’s not the same.”

He gives her a tender smile and rounds the end of the bed so he can climb up onto the free side, on top of the blankets. Settling down next to her, but making sure there’s a good half a foot of space between them, Oliver lies on his back with his hands laced and resting on his chest, and his ankles crossed. Having the archer beside her gives Felicity the courage to switch her lamp off. They lie in complete silence for a moment. Felicity attempts to get comfortable, but her baby bump makes it practically impossible. She ends up resting on her side with her back to Oliver, faint shivers running down her spine not from the cold, but from the blackness surrounding her reminding her of her night terror.

“Felicity,” Oliver whispers, his breath dancing on the back of her neck. “You’re shaking.”

“Sorry,” she murmurs, embarrassed. “I’ll - I’ll fall asleep eventually.”

There’s a beat and then he says quietly, “Back when we were together, you always fell asleep quicker after a nightmare if I spooned you. Do you think it would help if we cuddled… now? Just as friends, of course. Best friends cuddle.”

“Yes,” Felicity answers, far too quickly to be casual. Her cheeks flush again and she tries to take no notice of the need and desire pooling in the lower part of her abdomen, telling herself that her wanting to be closer to Oliver has nothing to do with her current horniness. “That would… really help, I think. Thank you.”

Oliver scoots across the sheets to press his front to her back, his large frame slotting up against her smaller one snugly. His top arm delicately wraps around Felicity’s waist until his palm his splayed out over her swollen stomach protectively; his body heat seeps into her, warming and comforting her. Felicity instantly feels much safer, and less anxious.

Oliver is right: cuddling isn’t something that just romantic partners do. Platonic friends can spoon each other as well without it being amorous or overly intimate. They’re definitely going to need to do this more often. Especially since the archer is curling his fingers over her baby bump in gentle stroking motions, soothing the twins and making them stop wiggling and kicking around in her womb. Usually, they’re always active, no matter what time of day it is or what Felicity is doing; the fact that the two of them are finally calming down is a miracle, and one she would love Oliver to run a repeat performance of.

Thanks to the archer’s spectacular spooning, Felicity manages to sink back into a slumber in a relatively short period of time. This round, though, her dreams are different in nature. Not filled with fear and terror… but instead, charged with lust and passion. There’s no possible way for her to shutter her horny pregnancy hormones in her sleep.

Her fantasy begins as it always has these last couple of days, with Oliver carrying her with her legs encircling his hips as he lowers them slowly down onto the bunker’s training mats so she sits astride him, his mouth never leaving hers and one of his hands splayed out possessively over her back. Clothes are shed in a frenzy as they desperately entwine their bodies, the alcohol creating a fog surrounding their actions and simply encouraging their primal urges to feel and connect with each other again.

The two of them are chasing their orgasms in that scenario when the scene shifts into another one - a dream Felicity has had many times before, set in his campaign office, when they were together. She perches on the edge of his desk at City Hall, her knees bracketing his waist as Oliver pins her down, his lips hungrily searching hers.

Felicity has her hands buried in Oliver’s hair, gripping it securely while her head rolls back, allowing him access to her neck, which the archer quickly uses to begin sucking hickeys over her tingling skin. The growls Oliver emits cause her to tremble with need, impatiently tugging at his tie until he gives in to her whimpered demand and shucks off his suit jacket and shirt. Fast and dirty sex in a semi-public environment has never been so appealing.

Once again, before they reach their climaxes, the scenario changes, City Hall fading around them and reconstituting into Felicity’s bedroom in the Loft. Extremely frustrated at this point by the fact she’s failed to achieve the orgasm she’s been urgently craving due to her stupid raging hormones, Felicity can feel Oliver’s lips resting on the bare skin of shoulder where her shirt has ridden up and just… snaps. He’s mostly asleep as she twists in his arms - with difficulty, since she has her full baby bump, which is new because she usually doesn’t when she’s having these sensual kinds of dreams - but instantly awakens when Felicity presses her lips to his.

She kisses him with a practically ravenous craving for more physical and sexual contact between them. Oliver responds without hesitation, moaning quietly but it’s the most delicious sound Felicity has ever heard. When the archer’s hands graze her ass, she whines needily, gasping out, _Oliver, please_ , which only spurs him on. He works around her swollen stomach by sliding lower on the bed, slipping his leg between hers so she can grind down onto his thigh.

He breaks the kiss, choking out, “Are you sure we should be doing this?”

“Shut up and fuck me, please,” she pants in response. “I need you, Oliver.”

But he still seems unsure, and there’s concern and wariness in his gaze that really shouldn’t be there, since this is just a harmless dream. Dream!Oliver never cares about the consequences of them having sex in any situation. “Felicity, you know I love you -”

“And I love you,” she agrees. She’ll say anything to make him happy and start kissing her again.

“- But won’t this make things complicated?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she mumbles against his lips, pulling him back towards her. “S’just a dream. A perfect, wonderful dream.”

Oliver immediately goes rigid against her. Within seconds, he’s pulling away as if he’s been burned, flinching and staring at her with unspeakable shock and sadness and fear in his eyes. Jumping off the bed, he backs away to the wall. “Felicity,” he whispers. “This is _not_ a dream.”

She stares at him in confusion, and takes in her surroundings. Her bedroom, rays of sunlight pouring through the curtains as the morning sun gradually rises; Oliver is fully dressed but his clothes and hair are ruffled, as if he laid down in bed with her but planned to get up again without falling asleep. The twins sit rather heavily on her bladder, resulting in an itching demand that she heads to the bathroom as soon as possible. The realization dawns when she registers that she can read the messages on her cell phone screen from the team checking in on times to arrive at the bunker today.

Reading is dreams is impossible. But she can read. Ergo… Oliver is right and this is definitely not a dream.

“Felicity?” the archer asks tentatively, tension wracking his body from where he’s still standing several feet away.

“Holy shit,” is what flies out of her mouth in a horrified response. She just kissed and started grinding on Oliver _and it wasn’t a dream_. She did that in real life. She’s appalled at herself. They’ve been living together platonically - she _swore_ to herself she wouldn’t let any romantic or sexual undertones develop - and poor Oliver was just lying asleep beside her when she basically started sexually assaulting him. “Oh god, Oliver, I’m - I am _so sorry_. I was just - having this dream and - I didn’t realize I was awake and just - I’m _so, so sorry_ , that was so inappropriate -”

Oliver interrupts her, a sharp glint in his eyes: “You were asleep?”

She nods frantically. “Yeah, of course. Why would I kiss and - and hump you otherwise?” Oliver stares at her intensely for a second and then - with shame radiating from his posture - lowers his gaze with a stuttered exhalation. He looks _devastated_. Felicity’s heart skips a beat. “You… you weren’t asleep?” His chest twitches in what appears to be a silent muffled sob. Her jaw drops. “Oliver, were you awake?”

Oliver doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he snatches his sweater off the floor and tears out of the room, bolting like a terrified animal from a predator.

By the time Felicity jolts out of her mortified, astonished stupor and stands to follow him, Oliver is long gone. He seems to have dressed hurriedly, grabbed his essentials and fled from the Loft.

He never gave her a reply as to whether he was asleep or awake when kissing her.

Felicity is scared she already knows the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **i'll see you all on august 26th for the next chapter :)**


	7. February

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for waiting so patiently. far warning - i needed vodka to edit this. and was kinda tipsy when checking grammar n shit over so there might be mistakes
> 
> **MAJOR Trigger Warnings for this chapter: Discussion and aftermath of both physical and psychological torture, including injuries and wounds, discussion of threats to harm children and other people, discussion and implication of suicidal ideation and attempts.**

Evelyn is a quivering mess when she turns up at the Loft’s front door at three in the morning, her swollen and puffy eyes indicating she’s been crying for hours. Felicity, who wasn’t asleep anyway due to the twins being far too active for her to get any rest, quickly ushers the tearful girl inside, but Evelyn resists, pulling against her arm.

“Prometheus took Oliver,” she sobs. “We - we were on patrol, Oliver, Rene and I - Oliver insisted we go out again after you, John and the others left for the night. He got a lead on Prometheus, Rene and I didn’t ask how and we - we confronted him, but he was prepared, and he was too fast, and too strong and - I blacked out and Rene got thrown out the window. By the time we both came around Oliver was _gone_ and there was blood _everywhere_ and Prometheus must have - he must have kidnapped him, and his tracker’s not working and his phone is dead and -”

“Evelyn!” Felicity snaps, giving her a sharp shake. Her heart is pounding in her chest and the fear and shock she feels threatens to overwhelm her, because oh god, Oliver being kidnapped by Prometheus is one of her worst nightmares, but she has to stay focused. Suffering from a panic attack right now would not be helpful to the situation; she has to stay calm so she can stop Evelyn from breaking down. “Sit down on the couch and take slow, deep breaths. I’m going to grab a jacket, shoes and my tablet and then we’ll go to the bunker and get the rest of the team, okay? We’ll get Oliver back.”

“But there was _so much blood_ ,” the girl gasps, nearly crumbling to her knees. Evelyn is very evidently starting to go into shock. “And he - the last thing he said on comms was to - to look after you and the twins and make sure you’re all safe, to keep you away from Prometheus -”

“Evelyn, hey!” Felicity clicks her fingers in front of her face. Thankfully, the recruit’s glazed eyes concentrate back on her again. “I need you to stay with me, alright? I can protect myself and the twins much better from the bunker, where I can also help find Oliver.”

Guiding Evelyn over to the couch, she pushes her down onto the cushions. She keeps a close eye on her as she grabs her leather jacket and sneakers. Her nearly thirty-week baby bump is huge now, and she’s never been so glad that her shoes are slip-ons and not lace-ups. Evelyn stammers through telling her that Rene went to go and alert Rory and Curtis to the situation, and John, who she called immediately after she saw Oliver’s tracker is dead, has gone to pick up their newest recruit, Dinah Drake.

Felicity is shocked to discover that Evelyn actually ran to the Loft on foot, since Rene took the Arrow van and she determined herself to be too shaken to ride one of the bikes. Felicity’s stomach is too large for her to fit behind the wheel of her and Oliver’s car, and as a result of that, she’s forced to trust Evelyn with driving them to the bunker. The teenager has only recently got her full license which is incredibly terrifying for Felicity, so she attempts to breathe evenly and keep her eyes closed, ignoring the jolts and jostling during the journey as she cradles her belly.

She and Oliver have been extremely distant from one another ever since that morning in the Loft over a month ago, when she kissed the archer while half asleep and thinking she was dreaming. Felicity recognizes why; it was incredibly awkward and her reaction was not particularly dignified. She knows that she must have upset him by how horrified she acted - and also due to the fact that Oliver hasn’t returned to the Loft since. She has no idea where he’s living now; he seemed to have grabbed the bare essentials before moving out, and Sam, Quentin, and Thea are equally clueless to where he’s gone. Felicity suspects that he might be spending his nights in the bunker - or, god forbid, his office at City Hall. She would ask out of concern for his wellbeing, but the two of them haven’t interacted beyond what’s required for them to work together on the team, and even then, their communications are harrowed with tension.

She didn’t exactly realize this straight away, since Oliver left the city for a week with Rory and Curtis to recruit Dinah Drake, an ex-cop turned metahuman with sonic scream powers, only a day after the kissing incident, but when he returned… well, Oliver refused to meet her gaze and talked in clipped sentences to her; worst, he flinched whenever she brushed up against him or moves towards him. Even after she apologized to him, informing him that she didn’t mean to upset him and knew she reacted badly, telling him that he deserved better, he was still awkward around her. Occasionally, every couple of days, she received a short, to-the-point text asking about the health and development of the twins, but Oliver didn’t contact her beyond that. She’s seriously injured his feelings and Felicity has no idea how to fix things, especially since she can’t get close enough to him to begin to apologize.

It’s because of things being fraught between them that Felicity feels completely at fault for Oliver being kidnapped. The only reason Oliver would have gone out into the field with Evelyn and Rene, but without technical support or back-up, is that he didn’t want to talk or be around Felicity. And now, he’s been captured by Prometheus. Probably going to be tortured. Possibly even killed.

Felicity’s breath catches in her throat and she struggles not to hyperventilate at the thought of _losing Oliver_. She can’t lose him - not when they’re expecting their twins to be born in eight weeks or so. The children don’t deserve to grow up fatherless in this cruel world and Felicity is utterly paralyzed by fear at the prospect of raising them alone when she’s been preparing to have Oliver by her side the entire time.

But what’s even more petrifying… is that if Oliver dies, she won’t get the chance to tell him that she’s still in love with him. She won’t get the chance to tell him that she regrets walking away from their relationship - that she’s always regretted it deep down, but fought to come to terms with that realization.

It’s been a struggle, realizing why exactly she’s been fighting her feelings about Oliver. She knows that if she’d got over it sooner and allowed them to have The Talk, they would probably be back together by now. But Felicity’s been scared. Oliver lying to her and not trusting her created a deeper wound than she’s willing to admit, and the scar has been very slowly healing. Now, she wants nothing more than to have the archer back by her side, so they can fully address the issues they’ve started to touch on, and finally begin healing together.

Now… they might not get that chance.

“Felicity?” Evelyn’s trembling voice startles her out of her panicked musings. “We’re here. It looks like John and the others are too.”

They’re parked in the bunker garage behind the Arrow van and John’s personal car. Evelyn has to help Felicity get out of their vehicle due to it being kind of hard for her to maneuver herself around with a house attached to her front, and the two of them hold hands tightly as they make their way out into the main chamber, where they can already hear John yelling at Rene, and the recruit shouting back. He’s obviously not too badly injured. The others are sitting at Felicity’s main monitor desk angled away from the argument that’s occurring, looking exhausted and anxious. Curtis is already online, appearing to be double-checking Oliver’s tracker and attempting to ping his phone off the nearest cell towers, without any luck; Dinah and Rory instantly vacate their chairs when they see Felicity approaching, and like a gentleman, Rory offers Felicity his hand to support her up the stairs.

She faintly hears John begin interrogating the recruits on the exact events that happened to lead to Oliver being kidnapped by Prometheus, his tone much softer when he’s addressing Evelyn than Rene, although that might be just because Evelyn is still crying and Rene is giving him attitude. To be honest, Felicity is still distracted, her vivid imagination cooking up some horrific images of Oliver strung up and dead, just how they found several other victims of Prometheus.

She manages to catch Rene rattling off the address of where they’d tracked the serial killer to and where the confrontation had taken place, so she tries to focus herself on tapping into nearby traffic cams and hacking other CCTV networks local to the area. Her hope is that she might spot Prometheus’ escape vehicle which he must have transported Oliver away in, but like all the other incidents surrounding the shadow of the villain, he seems to disappear into thin air. The very last footage Felicity is able to find of the pair before they vanish into the night is of Prometheus dragging an unconscious Oliver into an alleyway, leaving a trail of blood on the ground behind him.

“You got any intel for us to go off?” John asks, his voice rough as he strides up next to her. He’s equally as scared as Felicity, judging by the way he bites his lip and squeezes the blonde’s shoulder, as if trying to reassure himself while comforting her.

“I’ve got a location where they were last seen,” she tells them quietly, bringing it up on the main screen.

They watch the footage silently. Felicity suspects the dread and panic in their eyes echoes her own.

“Oliver won’t survive the night if he continues bleeding out like that,” Curtis says, voicing aloud what they’ve all realized but are too distressed to actually comment.

“What are we doing to do?” Rory asks.

All of them are looking over at her expectantly. Felicity is well aware that everybody, including John, views her as Oliver’s right-hand woman and the one who leads the team when the archer isn’t able to; she has to step up and take charge here, before everything descends into chaos.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity rubs her baby bump nervously as she begins commanding them, “Rory, you and Dinah are going head over to this alleyway and check for any traces or clues Prometheus might have left behind as to where he was taking Oliver. Curtis, guide them on comms. John, Rene, I want the two of you casing all of the surrounding streets and abandoned buildings in a five-mile radius, on the bikes. It’s possible that Prometheus didn’t risk moving Oliver too far from the location where he captured him, because he didn’t want to risk showing up on our radar. Evelyn, you’re staying here with me; I want you helping John and Rene out on comms.”

Everybody nods, accepting their given orders. Rory, Dinah, and Rene hurry off to get kitted up while Curtis gently guides Evelyn by the elbow into the kitchen, muttering about making her some chamomile tea to soothe her nerves. John remains behind, staring at Felicity with a scrutinizing expression. It takes a moment for the blonde to realize that he’s checking for how she’s reacting to everything that’s going on, as if he’s expecting her to start crying and having a meltdown. Her pregnancy hormones might be making her shaky and jittery, and much more emotional, but she can still focus.

“And you?” John prompts.

“I’m going to see if I can remotely reactivate either one of Oliver’s trackers, or his phone.” She begins typing feverishly. “We have to find him.”

“Felicity… what happens if we don’t?” her friend whispers.

Felicity closes her eyes, bowing her head. She refuses to let her tears fall. “I don’t want to think about that, John.”

Because if she loses Oliver, she’ll be losing a part of herself.

* * *

They eventually find the archer to rescue him, but it takes seven days.

Felicity thinks they might have been the worst seven days of her life.

She was so sick with worry over Oliver that she completely lost her appetite and became too restless to sleep. The twins seemed to sense Felicity’s anxiety and that their father was gone, and alternated between kicking and abusing their mother’s insides so much that she could barely stand due to the pain, and falling silent so that at times, Felicity was concerned over whether or not they were still alive.

Everybody else was worried as well. Quentin and Thea had to cover for Oliver at City Hall and told everybody that he was at a spiritual retreat, only telling the truth to Sam and Adrian Chase, who they hoped would be able to get them access to some more advanced government search programs (he wasn’t able to in the end). John, Rene, Curtis, and Rory threw themselves into scouring the streets of Star City; John even risked contacting Anatoly to ask if the Bratva had any intel, but the Russian mobster denied having any information. Evelyn didn’t go back out into the field until she had two days of rest, too shaken to even consider picking up her bow again. They were fortunate to have Dinah on the team now, so they could still have the same number of people in the field searching for their leader, but even she was struggling with Oliver’s kidnapping.

Everything came to a head when Felicity fainted from exhaustion in the bunker while the rest of the team were out doing re-con on a couple of abandoned buildings near the dockyards, and was discovered curled up on the floor passed out by Curtis when he came in for his comms shift. John was so worried about her that he yelled at her until she was so overwhelmed by emotion that she began to cry.

The moment her tears appeared, John’s shoulders slumped and he’d hugged her, muttering quiet apologies under his breath about how he shouldn’t have lost his temper, that he just wanted her to be safe and healthy, for her, Oliver and the twins. He and Evelyn had taken her home that night and forced her to eat, drink water, and take a long nap. Felicity worked under supervision from that point onwards - usually Curtis or one of the girls.

So Felicity’s week was rough, but she knows for certain this week has been one of Oliver’s worst in his life, as well. Because when John and Rene carry him into the bunker, unconscious and unresponsive, the archer is covered in blood and there’s not an inch of him that hasn’t been turned black and blue.

They’ve wrapped him in a fleece blanket while bringing him back, because his pants and Green Arrow suit jacket have been reduced to shreds. Once Oliver is situated safety on a medical gurney, Felicity stands back against the wall, her heart in her throat, as Rory carefully peels the blanket away, wincing as dried blood almost sticks the fabric to the archer’s battered chest.

Felicity has to cover her mouth as her stomach revolts, the instinct to be sick overwhelming as she peers down at her best friend and the father of her children’s wrecked body. There’s a bloody wound in his shoulder that must have been made from an arrow being shot through and then ripped out, wide slashes across his abdomen and what must be a third-degree burn covering his Bratva tattoo, as if Prometheus had been trying to torch it off. His wrists ankles have been rubbed raw, surrounded by rings of blood blisters, and rows upon rows of cuts litter his forearms and his thighs.

He has a noticeably fractured collarbone and Felicity wouldn’t be surprised if several of his ribs are broken as well. His face is pale and gaunt, with huge black bags under his eyes. Oliver probably hasn’t eaten at all this last week - she can’t imagine Prometheus would have fed him - and judging by his pallor, hasn’t slept either. The archer must have been given water at some point, otherwise he would be dead.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until John grasps her wrist gently and pulls her in for a hug, her huge baby belly making it a little awkward, but no less comforting. “He’s alive,” John reassures her softly. “Beaten and bruised, sure, but he’ll heal, Felicity. He’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not his physical injuries I’m worried about,” she whispers, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Oliver’s survived torture before, John, but nothing anywhere near as bad as this. And Prometheus held him for a _week_ … I can’t even begin to imagine how that’s affected him psychologically.”

Oliver remains passed out as John and Dinah work together to clean him up. John has his military emergency medical training and Dinah, being an ex-cop, has completed an extensive first aid program, so Felicity knows that the archer is in the right hands. She can’t watch them stitch up his many wounds without feeling nauseous, so she sits with the recruits to the side of the medbay, listening to them discuss in hushed voices the conditions they found Oliver in. She ends up feeling even iller than before; she hears them say that Prometheus was keeping her best friend captive in an actual damp, pitch-black basement cell with metal chains, and they actually found Oliver lying on the floor unconscious in a puddle of his own piss and blood, a hunter’s knife sticking out of his side.

“He had a gun in his hand,” Rene mutters. “Had a single bullet in the chamber. Prometheus was probably testing him. Trying to see whether or not Oliver would risk shooting him and being trapped there until he was found... or shoot himself.”

Rory’s eyes widen and they flit over to Felicity, who’s closed her eyes and screwed up her face in pain. “Rene, shut up.”

“Prometheus knows that Oliver’s the Green Arrow now. We all need to be careful - we’re all potential marks for him,” the recruit continues, ignoring Rory. “He’s been surveilling us all this past week. He put up this wall of photos for Oliver to look at and covered the pictures with what must have been his blood, and he had Felicity’s glasses pinned up there as well, and a reel of their ultrasound photos. He must have broken into the Loft to get them. Now he’s lost Oliver, I bet he’s gonna go after Felicity and the twins next, target them to try and cause him the most pain.”

Felicity gags, runs to the nearest trash can and promptly empties her stomach. The twins go insane in her womb, the force of their kicks sending her to her knees. Rory rushes over to support her. He sweeps her ponytail back over her shoulder and rubs her back as he glares intensely at Rene.

“That’s enough,” Evelyn snaps, shoving Rene across the room. “Felicity doesn’t want to hear that - _none of us_ want to hear that!”

“She deserves to know,” Rene scowls.

“Eat glass, Rene!”

“Hey, all of you stop fighting!” John shouts, raising his head from where he’s bent over Oliver’s prone form, just finishing suturing up some of the cuts on his wrists. “That doesn’t help anybody out right now! Rene, go take a shower and then pick up some pizzas from Angelo’s. We’re all starving and I’m pretty sure if you stay here for a minute longer, Evelyn is going to deck you, and nobody is going to stop her.”

Rene leaves, grumbling under his breath about not being a freaking kid and hating being treated like one. Rory and Curtis go to call Quentin and Thea about Oliver being recovered while Dinah and John complete patching him up as much as possible, delicately draping a fresh blanket over him and sliding a folded up towel under his head to act as a pillow. They’ve slipped an IV into his arm for hydration, meds, and nutrients, but don’t want to put a feeding tube in just in case Oliver reacts violently.

“What do we do now?” Felicity whispers.

“Wait for him to wake up,” John sighs. “His body’s in partial shutdown at the moment to try and speed up his healing. We’re pumping him some painkillers and antibiotics so hopefully, it won’t take long for him to regain consciousness.”

Felicity nods, and thanks Evelyn when she draws a chair over for the blonde to sit in at Oliver’s side. She caresses the swell of her stomach, wondering if the twins can sense that they finally have their father back with them, as she slips her hand into Oliver’s lax one, squeezing gently to just reassure herself that this isn’t a dream; they’ve rescued him and, although he’s been tortured, he’s alive.

“Daddy’s here, little ones,” she murmurs. “I just hope he’s okay.”

* * *

When Oliver wakes, Felicity fully expects him to lash out due to fear, which is why she remains alert as she holds his hand, ready to jump up and back away at a second’s notice. As much as she wants to be at the archer’s side when he eventually returns to consciousness, Felicity doesn’t want to risk getting hurt or the babies being harmed either, and she knows that after everything Oliver has been through, there’s a chance he might instinctively attack anybody touching him or around him.

Instead of that, however, Oliver wakes slowly and quietly, without fanfare. It’s because of that, that Felicity doesn’t instantly notice. She’s talking with Evelyn about her college application, which she’s been preparing to submit for next year, while the rest of the team eat the pizzas Rene brought back at the conference table. The girl is keeping her company; she’s the one who sees that Oliver is awake, startling and whispering Felicity’s name before nodding at him. 

Felicity quickly looks over at him, standing so that she’s within Oliver’s sightline. His eyes half-lidded, the archer is staring directly up at the ceiling. He appears to be disoriented but too exhausted to do anything. When he drags his eyes over to meet Felicity’s, blinking slowly at her, there’s a haunting emptiness to his gaze which makes a reflexive shiver run down the blonde’s spine.

“Oliver?” she questions carefully. “You back with me?”

“Water,” he croaks.

She glances over at Evelyn. The girl nods, rushing off to go and grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Oliver flinches at her sudden movements, an animal-like frightened whimper escaping his throat. Felicity resists the urge to reach out and comfort him, knowing he will not react well to touch at the moment; his skittish attitude worries her, but she’d rather he be anxious and scared than completely void of emotion. Nothing is more terrifying than when Oliver is completely still and quiet, trapped in his own head.

Glancing over him concernedly, Felicity rubs her baby bump to soothe the twins, who have started to become lively again as they sense the activity around them. Oliver’s eyes, which are still beautifully blue but clouded with pain and confusion, flit down to stare, an unreadable expression on his face. Evelyn returns with the water bottle, but hangs back, biting her lip. She doesn’t want to startle Oliver like she did before.

“You need to sit up,” she prompts him gently.

He nods and slowly heaves himself into an upright position. His hand slips a couple of times, shaking and struggling to hold his weight due to his physical weakness, but every time Felicity makes a minuscule movement to offer her help, Oliver shoots her wary looks. Every time, it feels like being punched in the stomach. She knows he’s not necessarily scared of her, but the fact that he’s so timid is frightening.

Eventually, Oliver is able to sit up properly with his legs dangling off the side, although he hunches forward with his shoulders tense and head held low, like a cornered injured wolf waiting to be attacked again. He picks at the IV line in his arm with shaking fingers until Felicity tuts him quietly. The archer twitches when Evelyn takes a step towards him, so Felicity motions with a slight inclination with her head that the recruit should stay back, taking the water bottle from her so she can offer it to Oliver herself.

He barely takes a couple of sips before stopping.

“Please try and drink more than that,” she requests, her voice careful. “You’re dehydrated already, we don’t want you getting sicker.”

“He gave me water every day, it was just food he withheld,” Oliver responds dully. But he obediently takes another drink from the bottle.

Felicity bites her lip when she sees his hand trembling. “Oliver, I really think you should be checked out by a proper doctor. I can call Dr Scwhartz, see if she can make a house-call - well, a bunker-call -”

“The only thing I need right now is to know if you and the babies okay.”

Felicity stares in disbelief. “Are _we_ okay? Oliver, we’re not the ones who were held captive by a supervillain for a week.”

Oliver shrugs his shoulders in a gesture that has to hurt, considering his multitude of wounds. “He told me he killed you,” he mutters, a faint tremor in his voice and his gaze aimed at the floor. “He had photos of you, our ultrasound pictures… he showed me your glasses. They were covered in blood.”

“The twins and I are safe and healthy,” she reassures. She desperately wants to take his hand and rest it over her baby bump, but is scared that Oliver might startle if she attempts to touch him. “John’s been looking out of us all week. I was barely in the Loft, and when I was, I was never alone. Prometheus might have been stalking us, but he didn’t get the chance to touch us.” The archer immediately flinches at the name, ducking his head as if he’s expecting to get hit. “Oliver…”

“I want to go home,” he whispers, sounding defeated. “Please, can we just go home?”

She hesitates. “The rest of the team -”

“There is no team,” Oliver cuts in. There’s no sharpness to his tone - just a resigned softness that causes Felicity’s heart to sink. “Felicity, I - I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m shutting everything down.”

She swallows and quickly glances behind her at Evelyn. The girl’s eyes are wide and panicked, but she’s also baffled by what she’s hearing. Felicity indicates with a pointed look that she should go and join the rest of the team, leaving them alone. Evelyn nods and, murmuring quietly to Oliver that she hopes he feels better soon, slinks off.

Once the recruit is gone, Felicity pulls up a chair, making sure the legs don’t scrape on the floor too loudly in case the noise agitates the archer. Taking a seat in front of him, she offers her hands out for Oliver to take. He does grasp them lightly, resting their joined hands on top of his knees, but Felicity can tell that she’s withdrawing at the contact. He hasn’t experienced any physical touch that hasn’t resulted in excruciating pain for over a week.

“Just you and me now,” she whispers. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. You don’t have to tell me what Prometheus did to you. But I need to know what you mean, Oliver, by ‘shutting everything down’.”

“Exactly that. I’m done. All of this, it’s done,” he mumbles. “Prometheus, he… he enlightened me, showed me the truth. Everyone that is, uh, down here, around me... they either suffer or they die. And it’s all because of me.”

Felicity struggles to remain calm as horror sweeps over her. “Oliver, I can't imagine what you've just been put through, but you have to know that Prometheus is wrong. He’s a criminal, a _murderer_.”

“I don't think that he is. And I can't -” He breaks off with a soft sob, his chin dropping to his chest. Pulling his hands back from hers, Oliver wraps his arms around himself, as if trying to turn them into a protective shell. “I… I just want to go home, Felicity. _Please_.”

She wilts. The crack in Oliver’s voice as he says her name stabs through her heart sharper than any blade. “Okay,” Felicity whispers, stroking his cheek gently and struggling not to burst into tears as he shudders. “Okay, we’ll go home. I need to have a quick word with John and the others first though, alright? Shouldn’t take more than five minutes. I’ll just be over there - you’ll be able to see me, and I’ll be able to see you, the whole time, I promise.”

Felicity says this more to reassure herself than Oliver, scared that the archer might try and hurt himself if she leaves him alone. She’s never seen him so close to a complete mental breakdown before, and she’s witnessed his worst nightmares and most terrible of panic attacks. It’s only because Oliver appears too tired to really do anything that she’s content with being across the room from him.

The team, alerted by Evelyn to Oliver’s waking, are waiting for her near the conference table with anxious expressions. Felicity beckons them over so she can keep the archer in her sightline while quickly explaining to John and the recruits what Oliver told her. While Rene, Curtis, Rory, Dinah and Evelyn all look bewildered, John just appears despondently understanding.

“He said all that?” Rene asks, confusion laced into his voice.

She nods, running her fingers through her hair. “I've never seen him so broken, and I've seen him at his lowest,” she mutters.

Rory shifted nervously on his feet, leaning back so he could peer over John’s shoulder at Oliver. “Did… did he say what Prometheus did to him?”

Felicity contemplates for a moment whether or not she should tell the team that Prometheus tried to convince Oliver that he’d killed her and the twins; Evelyn already knows, of course, since she was there to overhear, but judging by how she reacted in horror to the statement, she decides to keep that to herself. Then there’s the fact that Prometheus somehow drilled it into the archer’s head that all his friends and family are marked for death by associating with him.

“Not much,” she lies, rubbing her baby bump. Oliver imparted that to her privately, so it should remain private.

“I don't think I want to know,” Dinah shudders. She’s probably remembering what happened to her and her partner when they were captured and tortured, the incident in which she gained her meta powers when the particle accelerator exploded.

“Yeah, I already have more than enough nightmare fuel from this job to last me a while,” Curtis agrees. “And that’s without even going out into the field every night.”

Rene raises a hand. “Let's back up a second. We’re ignoring the important thing here. Oliver said the team's over? Like, what - we're supposed to just sit back and let Prometheus run wild? After everything he’s done - after the innocent people he’s murdered, after what he did to Oliver?”

“Nobody's sitting around, Rene,” John says, finally speaking up, and the determination in his tone is enough to settle Felicity’s nerves that maybe this is too much for them to handle. “Look, Oliver's in a bad place right now. But he will get it together. I don't have to remind any of you of how strong he is.”

Felicity swallows, glancing back at her best friend. Oliver isn’t even paying attention to their conversation. He’s slumped over in fatigue, his head hanging so only his dirty crop of blond hair is visible, streaked with mud, dust, and blood. “I don't know,” she murmurs. “This time, it just… seems different.” This doesn’t seem like something Oliver is going to be able to recover from easily.

John rests his hand on her shoulder soothingly, his voice low and smooth as he assures, “He will bounce back, Felicity. He will.” Turning to the recruits, he continues, “Until then, we are this city's last line of defense. While Felicity is focusing on getting Oliver back on his feet, you’ll be running comms and managing the monitors for us, Curtis. Rory, you can stay here with him and comb traffic cams and CCTV. Dinah, Rene, I want you to hit the streets within a ten-mile radius of where Prometheus was holding Oliver. Evelyn, you’ll be with me. We’re going back to that basement to see if Prometheus left any clues behind.”

The recruits jump into action, happy to have something to do other than fret. Felicity watches them go, nodding to each of them with a tremulous smile. Dinah even gives her a brief hug to wish her good luck, telling her to look after Oliver, herself and the twins, but not overextend herself in the process.

Felicity returns to the archer, who hasn’t moved since she left him. “Oliver,” she calls his name softly.

He doesn’t startle. He just peers up at her with those haunted eyes.

“Time to go home,” she tells him quietly.

Oliver jerks his head in a nod, sliding off the medical bench onto wobbly legs. Felicity has to steady him with one hand, and is thankful that he doesn’t flinch, because she doesn’t think she would be able to watch him recoil away from her again without crying. They take out his IV line carefully, but the archer declines the band-aid to cover the little hole left behind. His fractured collarbone and bruised, broken ribs make it extremely difficult for him to change into fresh clothes, even with painkillers in his system, so Felicity has to help him.

John and Evelyn give them a lift back to the Loft in a non-descript black sedan they sometimes use for stake-outs alongside the van, before heading out on their mission. The journey is spent in frigid silence. Felicity and Oliver sit in the back, and the blonde tries not to keep staring at the archer worriedly as he sits rigidly, his eyes glazed over as he gazes out the window.

When they arrive home, the sun is just breaking the horizon, bathing the sky in hues of pink and tangerine, rays of light peeking through the clouds. It’s still early enough in the morning that the streets aren’t busy yet, so they’re able to transfer Oliver from the car to the Loft at a much more comfortable pace for him, as he struggles to bear his own weight. Evelyn and John depart after embracing Felicity quickly, whispering empty reassurances that everything will be okay, which she doesn’t believe. Her heart is heavy and her head is pounding; how can everything be okay when her best friend, the father of her children - _the love of her life_ , but she shakes that thought away hastily, before her heart can clench more - is so broken?

“I’ll get you some water,” Felicity tells Oliver, once he’s seated on the couch. All of the movement he’s been doing has jostled his wounds, so he has his head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut. Felicity knows the archer well enough to spot when he’s trying to hide a grimace of pain. “Then we’ll check over your bandages and see whether or not you can handle a shower.”

“You should eat something,” is Oliver’s strained reply. He’s peering down at her stomach again, at the massive swell of her belly where their children are safe and cozy within. They’re probably asleep, judging by the fact that they’re not kicking the hell out of Felicity’s kidneys or bladder. “You and the twins - you need the energy and nutrients. Granola, or yogurt. Are you still having cold fruit cravings? I - I put some peaches and apples in the fridge for you, the day before -” he swallows the rest of his sentence.

Felicity turns her head swiftly away, so that Oliver can’t see how she’s tearing up, biting her lip to hold back her sobs. Oliver is shattered beyond belief, and yet is still more concerned about her and the twins’ wellbeings than himself. “If anybody should be eating, it’s you,” she responds, sitting cautiously beside him. She makes sure there’s a good two feet of space between them so the archer doesn’t feel trapped, before passing over the water. “There isn’t much food, I’m afraid. I haven’t been staying here that much this week.”

“I don’t think I could eat anything,” Oliver says, his voice small.

_But you need to_ , Felicity wants to insist. He’s lost muscle mass and weight during his abduction, and his body needs food to heal. She wants to cook him something, but unfortunately, their kitchen cupboards and cabinets are relatively bare; Oliver prefers to buy fresh ingredients for their meals, so they hardly have any cans or tins anymore. “How about we get some groceries in, and you can decide what you want to make then?” she suggests.

Oliver doesn’t say yes, but he also doesn’t say no. Felicity writes out a list of essential foods for both of them, and spends the next few minutes debating who she should call to ask to do this errand for them. She can’t leave Oliver. The team are all busy, and Thea and Quentin both have important City Hall meetings today. In the end, she calls the only person left she freely calls a friend and trusts.

“Felicity?” Sam answers the phone on the second ring, sounding eager. “Is everything okay?” 

Oliver’s personal assistant has been waiting for news concerning his boss all week. He was informed about the archer’s kidnapping, but is not aware of Oliver being the Green Arrow. At least, he’s not aware yet. He might suspect, considering the conversation Felicity had with him a couple of days ago about having friends in higher and darker places trying to track Oliver down.

“Hey, Sam. Sorry to call you so early. Oliver’s at home with me right now,” she replies, keeping her voice low in volume. “The Green Arrow’s team rescued him last night. He’s in rough shape, but we’re hoping he’ll recover quickly. I need a favor; I haven’t got any food here in the Loft and I don’t want to order delivery… I don’t know if Oliver would be able to cope with that, right now. I was hoping you’d be able to fetch some groceries for us and drop them off. I know it’s outside of your assigned duties as Oliver’s PA, but -”

“I’ve done far crazier things in the past for Mayor Queen, Felicity,” Sam interrupts. “Just text me the list and I’ll try and get there within the hour.”

“You’re the best,” Felicity sighs. “Thank you so much, Sam.”

She messages him a photo of the grocery list and then heads back to Oliver, who is looking up at the ceiling with such a blank expression that Felicity worries for a moment that his soul has left his body. He sits still and doesn’t speak as she checks over all of his wounds again, replacing bandages where the old ones are soaked through with blood, and examining sutures where they’ve pulled slightly. She delicately places waterproof gauze over the top of his cuts and burns that don’t already have coverings, and then asks gently if he’d like to take a shower now. Oliver doesn’t seem to care, which is alarming. One of the archer’s favorite things in the world is returning to the bunker after a long night of crime-fighting to a long, scalding hot shower to wash the sweat off his skin. That he’s so indifferent when it comes to self-care right now is not good.

Felicity has to help Oliver to the bathroom, and is just glad that he can pretty much walk by himself and just needs her to aid in balance - she’s thirty weeks pregnant and isn’t all that steady on her own feet with a house attached to her front containing two well-developed twins. He insists that he can manage in the shower by himself, showing, to Felicity’s delight and relief, an emotion other than fear, confusion, pain or nothing at all for the first time since waking up: embarrassment. His cheeks flush a beautiful red at Felicity’s suggestion of joining him - fully clothed, of course - to help him reach and wash the spots where he won’t be able to, due to his injuries.

Oliver is still in the shower when Sam arrives, four grocery bags in hand. Hurrying him into the Loft, Felicity begins helping him unpack all of the food. They make small talk about how she’s feeling regarding the pregnancy and how things have been going on the office before they get onto the topic of Oliver, something Sam seems much less certain talking about. By his tentative tone, Felicity can tell that Sam doesn’t want to push her for answers or press for information about Oliver’s injuries. She doesn’t need to tell him; if Oliver emerges from the shower before his assistant leaves, Sam will get an eyeful of what he’s suffered through.

Sam is re-organizing the fridge so that the fruit and vegetables are on one shelf, and the meats and cheese are on the one below, when he asks hesitantly, “Felicity, is Mayor Queen the Green Arrow?”

Felicity stops in her actions of checking the eggs over for cracks, and stares at him. Sam is not stupid; in fact, he’s incredibly intelligent, with a Masters degree in English from Oxford. If Sam if asking her that question, that means that he’s already figured it out, and is just testing to see whether or not that level is trust has been established between them yet. Usually, Felicity would not be the one to confirm anybody’s suspicions of her best friend being the Green Arrow, but Oliver is not here and not in the right mental state to step in and deny the claim. Plus, she reckons that Sam might get offended if they attempt to lie to him.

“Yes, he is,” she says.

He nods thoughtfully, and takes the eggs from her to slide into the fridge next to a stack of yogurt pots. “How badly did Prometheus hurt him?”

A tense beat passes before Felicity swallows and scrounges up the courage to respond thickly, “I’ve held Oliver’s life in my hands before, too many times to count, Sam. But never have I been as scared for him as I am right now. There are things worse than death, and from what I can tell, Prometheus tortured him to that point, and beyond.”

Sam crumples and hugs her. Felicity embraces him back with one harm, using her other to brace her swollen belly, and resist the urge to bury her head into the assistant's shoulder and just cry. Oliver needs her to be strong right now.

It’s as Sam is pulling away that a crash and a frustrated yell echo through the Loft, originating from the bathroom. Felicity’s heart sinks. She should have known that Oliver would need help showering when his coordination is so off and he can barely move due to his wounds. Sensing that it’s time for him to leave, Sam reluctantly allows Felicity to hand over a twenty dollar note for the groceries and asks that she keep him updated; he reminds her that he’ll always be available to lend a hand if she needs an extra one. Locking the door behind him, Felicity hurries across the Loft to the bathroom as fast as she can, her power walk more of a stumbling waddle because of the weight of her belly.

“Oliver?” she asks nervously, knocking on the closed door gently. “Are you okay? I heard a crash… and you shouting.”

There’s a moment of silence and then she hears Oliver respond, his voice barely audible, “I fell.”

She exhales shakily. “Can I please come in and help you?”

“I’m naked.”

“I’ve seen you naked before, Oliver,” she replies, refusing to feel awkward or embarrassed.

“... Alright.”

The sight that meets Felicity’s gaze is an utterly pathetic and sad one. Oliver is leaning his entire weight onto the shower wall, his knees quivering. That tormented, hunted look in his eyes is back, and he eyes her warily as if expecting her to attack him. Bottles of shampoo, conditioner and shower lotion have been knocked off onto the floor and sit in a puddle of murky water, dirtied by mud and blood; the bottles are what probably caused the loud noise she heard earlier. Although Oliver has managed to lather some soap onto his torso, he hasn’t been able to reach his legs, arms or back, and he hasn’t washed his hair yet.

“I can’t lift my arms,” Oliver says feebly. There are tears in his eyes.

“Oh, honey,” Felicity whispers. Her resolve hardening, she begins stripping off to her bra and underwear. “I’m going to help, okay? I can get your back and your hair for you.”

He stares at her with an unreadable expression. No doubt the archer is remembering the last time they showered together, over a year ago now, where they’d ended up making love against the wall instead of cleaning each other. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he says quietly.

“We’re both adults. Sure, we used to be together, but we can be mature about this and keep our eyes aimed away from more private areas.” Seeing how Oliver still looks unsure, she pleads, “Please let me help you, Oliver.”

After a moment, he nods, and shuffles aside to make room for her. The shower isn’t exactly large, but it can comfortably fit two people if they make efficient use of the space. It’s a little cramped because of Felicity’s baby bump, but it’s something they can both easily work around. The blonde picks up the dropped bottles of shampoo and conditioner first, before pouring some shower lotion into her hands and carefully starting to lather it onto Oliver’s back and arms, cautious to keep the suds away from his bandages and gauze. Oliver shivers, but the water isn’t cold, so Felicity knows it’s not due to that.

They don’t speak. They don’t need to. The silence isn’t at all deafening, and is instead quite comforting. Oliver bows his head to allow Felicity to wash his hair, and they end up standing face to face as she works shampoo into his hair, grimacing at the clumps of dried blood. The hot water washes away most of the grime, but she still has to massage his scalp thoroughly to make sure all of the clumps are gone. She’s focused entirely on her work, so doesn’t really even notice Oliver’s nakedness; it’s reassuring that despite being in such a physically vulnerable position, the archer isn’t being triggered by any of this. He seems to notice all of her bare skin, though, absentmindedly stroking his calloused thumbs over her taut stomach before he places his palms against the baby bump, almost cradling it, as he feels their twins kick. Oliver appears fascinated. All Felicity can think is that she’s thankful he’s at least not frightened.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, once they step out of the shower together.

Felicity passes him over his favorite towel, a giant blue one he can wrap around his whole body. “Don’t mention it.”

She has to help him dry his body and dress as well, but they don’t talk during that either. Once Oliver is clean and warm, and Felicity has changed into fresh, dry clothes as well, she leads him by the hand back into the living room. Some of his appetite has returned, so the two of them work in the kitchen together to make some simple porridge that the archer reckons he might be able to stomach. Felicity makes herself a sandwich and picks at some chips, only because Oliver tells her that he won’t eat unless she does.

After he finishes eating, though, Oliver slips back into that stupefied, vacant state, that signifies that his mind is very, very far away and separate from what’s happening in the present. The usual tricks Felicity would use to snap him out of it would be dangerous considering his condition; she has the feeling that convincing him to squeeze an icepack or sitting on his lap to provide pressure wouldn’t help, and just result in her getting punched across the room. So instead, Felicity dims the lights and lights a mild lavender-scented candle, guiding the archer over to the couch so he can lie down.

She sits with his head on her thighs, his ear pressed to the baby bump, and gently threads her fingers through his damp hair. Listening to the twins moving about, feeling them kick against his cheek, seems to lift Oliver out of his dissociation. He hums a song Felicity has never heard before very softly under his breath, as if singing his children a lullaby. It causes a lump to form in Felicity’s chest. She’s so utterly relieved that her Oliver is still there underneath all the trauma; he’s been damaged and fragmented and broken by Prometheus’ torture, warping and crushing his mind and conviction... but his heart, which has always been true and fundamentally _good_ , has not been changed.

Pressing a tender kiss to her belly that makes Felicity’s breath hitch, Oliver murmurs flatly, “I was going to do it.”

“Do what?” she asks.

The sheer indifference to the archer’s tone as he responds, “Kill myself,” is devastating.

“What do you mean?” Her heart skips a beat, because she thinks she already knows.

“Prometheus gave me a gun, with a single bullet in the chamber. He said that what I did with it would prove whether I was a hero or a coward,” Oliver explains. His voice is distant and detached, but it’s clear he’s forcing it on, because his fingers are twitching and his shoulders are bunched with tension. “I could shoot him and risk being trapped in that cell for another couple of days and dying of dehydration and starvation, or shoot myself and escape his torture. He never told me which option was the hero’s, or the coward’s.” He peers up at Felicity, his eyes _dead_. “Maybe it was meant to be obvious. It wasn’t, to me.”

“All that matters is that you didn’t.”

“I was going to.”

“Like I said. That doesn’t matter,” Felicity insists. “You didn’t. Whether you intended to or not isn’t relevant anymore, because you’re alive and here with me.”

Oliver tilts his head sideways at her, and her insides twist, because she can tell by the cold nature of the movement that he’s viewing her as more of a target than a friend. “Doesn’t it bother you? That I would so easily end my life, and leave you and the twins alone?” His fingers dance over her bare skin again. It’s chilling. “Allow them to grow up fatherless, force you into becoming a single parent?”

“Oliver, why are we talking about this?” she whispers, horrified.

He looks up and meets her eyes. Felicity finds it impossible to look away. “Do you remember when I got back from fighting Ra’s on that mountain top, and you were upset with me because I wanted to work with Merlyn?” Swallowing, she nods. “Do you remember what you said to me?”

Her throat closes up. “Oliver -”

“You said you didn’t want to be a woman that I loved.” He laughs, the sound mangled and quiet and bitter. “That was probably one of the smartest things you’ve ever said.” Oliver turns his face away from her, looking anguished. “I’m sorry for loving you, Felicity. I can’t help it. I feel like I need you more than I need oxygen to breathe some days. I can’t survive without you - I don’t want to live without you.” He takes a trembling breath. “But because I loved you, because I _love_ you, I’ve stained your soul with this black mark, from my darkness.” A defeated sob bursts from his chest as he dissolves into tears. “I’ve doomed you. Prometheus... he’s going to do whatever it takes to track you down and kill you, because of me. You’re going to die, the twins are going to die, and it’ll be my fault. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey.” Felicity brushes her thumb over his cheeks, wiping away his tears. Oliver clings to her desperately like a scared child, his hand tangled in her t-shirt. “There are many things I regret, Oliver, but I will never regret loving you and being loved by you.”

“You should,” he replies weakly. “I can’t stop Prometheus, Felicity. I have no idea who he is, and he’s a better fighter than me. He’s got resources and he - he knows everything about me.”

“Not everything,” Felicity shakes her head. 

Oliver gulps. “He knows about William, Felicity. He doesn’t know where he is, but he - he knows that I have a son somewhere out there.”

“He won’t ever find him,” Felicity reassures. “The FBI’s database is ten times more secure now I’ve erected my own firewalls over Samantha and William’s files. William will be safe.”

“Mia and Tommy won’t. As long as you associate with me, Prometheus will be after you.”

Felicity suspects what’s coming next. Oliver is going to try and push her away ‘for her own safety’, which will in fact just place her and the twins in greater danger. “Prometheus will be after the twins and me no matter whether we associate with you or not, Oliver. He knows who you are, so he knows I’m pregnant with the Green Arrow’s children. We’re always going to be targets. But if we have you and the team to protect us, we’re less likely to end up in the line of fire.”

Emitting a small noise of protest, Oliver argues, “There is no team anymore. I told you, I’m done.”

“You might be done, but John and the others are not,” Felicity says gently. “You might be team leader, but you don’t get to decide that for them. If you want to stop being the Green Arrow, that’s fine, Oliver. John will step up as Spartan and manage the team instead. You can retire, and occasionally provide support from the sidelines. But I don’t think you want that, at least not until Prometheus is in custody.”

“I don’t know how to beat him.” Oliver digs his fingernails ever so slightly into her leg, making Felicity suppress a wince.

“You don’t have to beat him. You just have to catch him.” She sighs. “Look, Oliver… we both know that my days in the bunker while I’m pregnant are numbered. At the most, I’ll be able to stand another week running tech before I have to take maternity leave, and that’ll only be because I’ll be so huge, I won’t be able to use the stairs without risking falling over and getting hurt. While I still have access to the bunker’s resources, I think it’s time I pull out the big guns. We couldn’t chance it before because of the threat of exposing the team, but I think we’re desperate enough now. I’ll get in contact with my old MIT classmates who work for the NSA and CIA, and ask if they have any potential intel. I’ll even put a line out to Anatoly, and see if the Bratva can help.”

“I’ve run out of favors with Anatoly,” Oliver says, his voice rough. “He’ll ask something from you, that you won’t be able to give. The price is always too high with the Bratva. No, Felicity. I won’t have you doing that, not for me. Not with Mia and Tommy’s lives at stake.”

“Then John will do it.”

He jerks his head, so he was resting his head more on her knees than her thighs. “No, I will. I’ll take Dinah with me; as an ex-cop, she’s probably managed mob negotiations before. Maybe Evelyn. Anatoly is softer when kids are involved.”

She smiles. “So we’re not disbanding the team?”

“I don’t like it when you logic me,” Oliver mumbles, his hot breath tickling her stomach. “Mia, Tommy, are you hearing this? Your mom is being incredibly and annoyingly smart. You two aren’t gonna be able to get away with anything when she’s disciplining you.”

Her heart soars, hearing him talk to the twins with such a longing tone. “They’ll get their stubbornness from their father.”

“No, they’ll get it from their mother,” Oliver corrects. “They’ll get all their best traits from you.” He huffs and closes his eyes, curling up closer to her. “I’m tired.”

She nods, stroking over his hair. He’s too exhausted to move, but she doesn’t mind Oliver using her as a pillow in these circumstances, considering everything he’s been through.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, his voice cracking. “I might have nightmares.”

Might? Felicity thinks he means ‘definitely will’. “I’ll be careful. Just sleep, Oliver. You need to rest to heal.”

He exhales slowly. Closing his eyes, the archer tries to relax, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension out. Felicity continues to tenderly pet his head, hoping it helps relax him even further.

“Felicity?” Oliver slurs.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

She bites her lip, her heart aching. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“No, I do.” He nuzzles down into her knee. “I don’t regret kissing you when you thought you were asleep last month. I should, but I don’t. I’m sorry. I missed kissing you. I wanna do it again.”

Felicity strokes over his hair, a lump in her throat. “I’m sorry for reacting badly,” she whispers. “I don’t regret it either.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I love you.”

Felicity freezes. Oliver obviously isn’t waiting for a response, and doesn’t expect one. But after the week she’d had, she’s been forced to confront some truths. She gathers every scrap of courage and squashes the apprehension blooming in her chest. Oliver has bared his soul to her today. She can afford to open up to him herself in return. “I love you too,” she whispers.

But Oliver is already passed out on her lap, and Felicity isn't sure whether he got to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next week: we take a daring dive into 5x20


	8. March (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow guys. i was blown away by the feedback for the last chapter. thank you all SO much for your comments and support, it really meant the world to me, especially considering how difficult that chapter was to write. i really appreciate everything you all said xx
> 
> this chapter and the next are based on the events of 5x20, where oliver and felicity were trapped in the bunker. as a reuslt of that, some of the dialogue is the same as the show, or very similar. obviously the events have been changed and altered to fit into the AU, because let's be honest... the idea of oliver carrying around a heavily pregnant felicity on his back is a comical but extremely unrealistic one. next chapter you'll see that the last hospital scene for the episode has been changed a LOT. namely, there's a lot more apologising - from BOTH sides, this time
> 
> i really hope you enjoy the next two chapters. they took a lot of effort and time, and i re-wrote them a lot because of my own high standards, and i know a lot of you have been waiting for this episode for a while - enjoy reading!!
> 
>  **trigger warnings** : discussion and description of wounds and injuries, needles, medical terminology

“You shouldn’t be here, Felicity.”

Bristling angrily, Felicity doesn’t turn around from where she’s focused on the bunker’s main monitor screen as she forces out through her teeth, “I’m thirty-three weeks pregnant, not an invalid. Besides, I’m only here because I have to be, Oliver.”

He scowls. “I still don’t like you down here.”

Felicity resists the urge to thump Oliver over the head with her keyboard, and continues working. “Tough. Stop bothering me and let me work and I’ll be out of here as soon as possible. I promise. Just trust me to do this, please.”

The last month has been difficult. Oliver’s recovery from Prometheus’ torture was slow and in Felicity’s opinion, he jumped back into the field far too early, as soon as he was physically healed, but before his mental state improved enough for her to believe that he wasn’t self-destructive. At home, he was antsy and restless, constantly moving despite the fact she insisted on him waiting for his injuries to heal up. He hated being kept out of the loop, and soon began communicating with the team behind Felicity’s back, to her annoyance. The only reason she found out was because Evelyn narced on him. Eventually, she was forced to accept that Oliver needed to return to the field for his own sanity. Felicity was able to keep a close eye on him the first week after his return to Green Arrow duties, but once Felicity went on maternity leave - much to her extreme reluctance - she had to rely on John and Evelyn to watch over Oliver and make sure he stayed safe.

While Oliver continued to recover, taking occasional days off only when John insisted, Felicity went shopping a lot with Thea for baby clothes and things, in preparation for the twins’ arrivals. Although they managed to get the nursery set up just after Christmas, with cribs and mobiles, and John and Lyla gave them some of the second-hand stuff from JJ, there were still some essential supplies they needed to buy, like reusable diapers, toiletries, creams and - a basket of other uncountable things. They’re mostly sorted at this point, as they already know they’ll be holding a one-month birthday party where they’ll get gifted toys and more clothes. Oliver hated shopping and tried to avoid coming with them; seeing the Green Arrow panicking and trying to pick between a green baby hat and a blue one, though, was immensely amusing.

When Oliver went back to work at City Hall, he had Thea and Quentin looking out for him, as well as Sam, who had become a sort of honorary member of Team Arrow, now he knew Oliver’s secret. Quite often, Felicity herself would end up going to City Hall with Oliver, since he was becoming very paranoid about her safety; he seemed convinced that Prometheus was going to target her and the twins. She didn’t argue and allowed his overprotectiveness, mostly due to the fact that she was terrified that the archer might be right. It was better to be safe than sorry. Felicity sometimes spent time hanging with Oliver’s assistant during the day, as he was fun to hang out with when Oliver was in meetings, but mostly wasted her hours going over all the data she’d managed to gather on Prometheus so far.

During that one week before she retired from the bunker, Felicity was able to get some vital work in. She contacted her old friends who worked for the NSA and CIA, and with their help, was able to get hold of their files for Prometheus, as he’s such a renowned active serial killer now that everybody in security and intelligence are aware of him. They didn’t have much information, but there was one name they found associated with Prometheus that they didn’t have - HELIX.

Anatoly, the leader of the Bratva, aided Team Arrow in tracking down more information about HELIX. He considered Prometheus’ attack on Oliver an insult and an assault on the Russian mob itself, so was happy to use some of his thugs to sweep the darker, less accessible, more illegal areas of the Glades that John and the recruits couldn’t get into, getting in contact with the Triad and other gangs.

In the end, they discovered that HELIX is a terrorist organization of hacktivists run in the shadows by a dangerous, genius man named Cayden James, who’s on ARGUS’ most wanted list. HELIX is allied with Prometheus for some reason - Oliver suspects it might be something to do with him, but they can’t find proof of that - and are helping him evade capture by the police and Team Arrow, by erasing digital evidence, covering up his crimes, and messing with the team’s tracking and monitoring tech. They’ve been doing this by hacking into the city’s power grid and taking control of the city’s CCTV and traffic cam network, as well as essentially hijacking the SCPD’s systems.

Felicity took maternity leave before she was able to do much more, but kept working on by herself on her laptop at home while Curtis worked on a couple of other angles in the bunker, having taken over her role as tech for Team Arrow temporarily. But Curtis wasn’t able to give them results. For three weeks, Felicity was woken every night in the early hours of the morning - if she wasn’t already awake, trying to satisfy her apple and blueberry pie cravings - by Oliver returning to the Loft exhausted and frustrated beyond belief, because they’d basically made no progress in capturing Prometheus.

As if mocking Team Arrow’s efforts to catch him, the villain killed four more people during those three weeks. First, he murdered a young man with a startling resemblance to Oliver, shooting him with black arrows five times and leaving him to bleed out. Then he killed a mother with blonde hair and her toddler daughter with throwing stars. His last victim was, to everybody’s horror, Adrian Chase’s wife.

Oliver despaired every time the police discovered another body, and became furious whenever they claimed they there was no evidence of it being Prometheus, due to the fact that HELIX covered his tracks. He insisted on attending every funeral, despite Felicity arguing that him feeling guilty was precisely what Prometheus wanted. They got into a couple of fights over it, actually, so much so that they didn’t talk to each other beyond clipped sentences for half a week.

Now, however, they have their first solid lead. Curtis managed to find a worm that HELIX has placed in the SCPD servers, that they use to infiltrate their files. It was possible to counterhack it and trace its point of origin, to find HELIX’s base of operations, but Curtis wasn’t skilled enough to tackle their security. Team Arrow’s only choice was to bring Felicity in. Oliver hadn’t been pleased - mostly because Felicity’s baby belly is so giant she doesn’t even waddle anymore, she just _struggles_ , and stairs are basically impossible for her. He agreed, but very unhappily.

Felicity was all too happy to try and counterhack the worm when they told her about it, but now, after four hours of striking down various firewalls and deconstructing protective code… she’s cranky, and sweaty, and feels like a blue whale, and really wants some chocolate, and _if Oliver doesn’t stop going on about how he doesn’t like this_ -

“Can you back off!?” she hisses, when she senses Oliver leaning over her shoulder and opening his mouth to start ranting again. “Jesus _Christ_ , Oliver, I’m trying to hack here and I can’t concentrate at all with you hovering!”

“You’re heavily pregnant with twins and shouldn’t be here at all, if you think I’m going to leave you -”

Felicity decides within a split second that she’s had enough, and wheels her chair around, wrapping her arms around her swollen belly as well as she can, when she’s carrying two very well-developed babies at this point. God, she hates being this huge and heavily pregnant. “Can you just trust me, please?!” she explodes. “I know what I’m doing, Oliver, and I need you to trust that I can do this! Why don’t you ever trust me!?”

Oliver’s eyebrows shoot up, and there’s a fire blazing in his blue eyes as he splutters, “I do trust you!”

“No, you don’t.” She turns back around, infuriated. Her exasperation is making it impossible for her to focus. “Dammit. We are _not_ having this conversation now.”

It’s _The Talk_. The one they’ve desperately needed to have since they broke-up, but Felicity still doesn’t feel like she’s ready. She’s busy with this worm as well, and if she stops now, all of her progress from the last couple of hours will be ruined.

“I’m not talking to you about this when I’m angry,” Felicity growls to herself.

There’s a beat of silence. “Okay, you’re done,” Oliver says. “C’mon. We’re getting you home. You’re far too tired to continue.”

Felicity rises to her feet, wobbling but not caring about her balance. She falls forward ever so slightly, and it ends up being perfect, because she’s able to stab her finger into the archer’s chest. “You don’t get to decide what I am and am not going to do, Oliver Queen.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this!” he protests, looming over her.

“For the past four years, I have watched you do whatever you had to, whatever it took, to stop the people threatening this city. All I want to do is stop HELIX and Prometheus, Oliver. I don’t care that I’m thirty-three weeks pregnant, I can still help out behind a keyboard when I need to!” When Oliver doesn’t reply, just staring at her with wide eyes, she shakes her head with a sound of disappointment. “Doesn’t matter. I just wish you’d back my play.”

“I’m - I’m worried,” he says softly, with that stricken expression that always causes her heart to clench.

“No, you don’t trust me to know my boundaries and use my skills effectively. And not just when I’m pregnant.” Felicity returns to her typing code. Under her breath, she adds bitterly, “You don’t trust me when it comes to a lot of things.” Saving the code she’s written so far, Felicity heaves herself to her feet, groaning as her bladder starts to scream at her. “I’m going to the bathroom. _Don’t touch anything._ And no, I do not need you to act as a walking stick for me. It might take me five minutes to actually walk over there, but I can do it on my own.”

Oliver shoots her a pleading look. “At least let me help you down and up the stairs.”

The stairs are her arch-nemesis at the moment. “... that would be helpful, yes.”

It takes Felicity an irritating record time of fifteen minutes to use the bathroom because her giant baby belly constantly gets in the way. She mutters under her breath about how Mia and Tommy are turning going to the toilet into a battleground now as she exits at a snail’s pace, waddling on her aching swollen feet.

As she closes the bathroom door behind her, however, a shrill alarm starts blaring from the platform monitors. That indicates that her program is being interrupted, and her code is being dismantled. Panic sweeps over Felicity as she calls up to Oliver frantically, “Did you touch anything!?”

“No, it just - it just started making that noise!” he replies, standing in front of the screens with an agitated expression.

“Oh god.” If Oliver hasn’t laid a finger on her code, that means that it’s being interfered with by an outside source. It’s highly possible that HELIX might actually be counterhacking her own counterhack. There’s no telling what terrorist hackers might try and do to their network. They could disrupt everything; all the equipment, ventilation and systems down in the bunker are run mostly electronically. The most dangerous place to be, though, is up on that platform, because if HELIX has control… they could blow up their monitors. “Oliver, get away from there!”

“What’s going on!?” he yells.

“HELIX have infiltrated -”

The monitors _explode_. In a storm of shattered glass, exposed wiring, and electrical sparks, Felicity watches in horror as Oliver is thrown back by the force of the eruption over the platform’s safety rails, out of sight. The lights burst above them, raining glass splinters down onto the floor and casting everything into darkness.

Agonizing numbness stabs through the lower half of Felicity’s body, like a sword has sliced through her spine. She screams silently from the pain, terrified not only for herself but Oliver, and the _twins_ , oh god _the twins have to be okay_. Felicity crumples, her legs no longer supporting the rest of her body, but by some miracle manages to catch herself on the edge of the conference table so she doesn’t fall directly onto her baby belly. She collapses bonelessly onto her back, hyperventilating from her fear, trying to cradle the twins protectively.

Dizziness washes over her mind like a tidal wave. She has to get somewhere relatively safe, so the twins aren’t harmed by falling glass or wiring, but the only thing the blonde is able to do in her weakened state - _she can’t feel her legs_ \- is drag herself under the conference table The last thing Felicity sees blurrily above is snapped electrical wiring flickering above her before the darkness enfolds and encases her.

* * *

“Felicity?! Felicity? Come on, baby, wake up. Please wake up. Felicity!”

Her ears ringing and her heartbeat thudding like a sledgehammer in her skull, Felicity regains consciousness slowly. Her entire body feels unfathomably heavy, almost impossible to move, and her muscles feel like they’ve seized. Immediately, despite her drowsiness, Felicity reaches down in panic to check on Tommy and Mia. Strangely, she can feel them moving inside of her, placing pressure on her organs, but she can’t feel her hand on her belly.

Oliver must have carefully moved her away from the conference table, because she’s lying on a thick blanket on the medical bay’s floor. He cups her face gently, checking her eyes for any signs of a concussion and then running his gaze up and down her body methodically, searching for injuries. Felicity can see through her bleary vision that the archer has cuts and nicks all over his face from being thrown back by the explosion, but he seems most unhurt.

“Oh thank god,” Oliver says in relief, sniffling as Felicity finally drags her eyes up to meet his. He’s tearful, concern covering every inch of his bruised face. “Jesus, I thought - are you okay? Are the twins? Are you injured?”

“No,” she responds groggily. She’s not returned to full awareness yet. “I - we’re fine. Tommy and Mia, I can feel them moving… they’re okay. I broke my fall using the table and made sure I landed on my back. We’re good.”

“I -” Oliver whips his head around, scanning the bunker. “I need to go and check we’re not under attack. If that was HELIX, then there’s a chance that Prometheus could be here and -”

“Go,” she nods, rubbing her eyes to try and fully wake up.

“Don’t move,” he orders.

Felicity peers down at her legs. She can’t feel them. The reason why comes to her with a crushing sense of realization, and she whimpers quietly, hoping Oliver doesn’t hear the noise. Her spinal implant has stopped working. She can’t feel from her waist down; she’s paralyzed again. “Not - not gonna be a problem,” she rasps.

She lies staring at the ceiling, resisting the desperate urge to cry, as she listens to Oliver quickly run through the bunker, checking every corner for any intruders. Somehow, in the year since Curtis built the microimplant that curved her paralysis, Felicity forgot how utterly terrifying it was to have no ability to move the lower half of her body. She feels stupidly weak and helpless; when she was using a wheelchair last year, she massively built up her upper body strength to compensate and make it easier for her to transfer, but now she’s lost a lot of that muscle and put on weight because of the pregnancy. She can sit up, and that’s about it. She might be able to lift herself into a wheelchair if Oliver goes and collects her spare one from the storage locker, but given her huge baby belly… well, it’s already difficult enough for Felicity to move around when she’s actually able to walk. It’s going to be absolute hell trying to move around now.

“Alright,” Oliver says, breathless, as he returns to her. He’s got a Glock in his hands, but shoves it down the back of his pants as soon as he gets near her, obviously unhappy about wielding a gun around his unborn children. “If Prometheus broke in, he’s not on this level.”

He kneels to grasp just under her armpits to help her up onto her feet. But Felicity can’t stand. She has no feeling below her waist, beyond the twins shifting around inside of her. The reminder of her situation causes her to whimper, closing her eyes to fight the wave of vulnerability and distress that spreads through her.

Oliver immediately freaks out. “Oh god, you are hurt. I - I’ll call Dr Schwartz, maybe she can -”

“No, your cell phone won’t work at all. The explosion, it was - it was caused by an EMP, a burst of electromagnetic radiation. Everything in the bunker with an electric circuit has been fried,” she explains shakily.

“How do you know?”

“Because the spinal implant that helps me walk isn't working,” Felicity whispers, tears finally falling. Oliver stares at her in shock and horror. “I can't feel my legs, Oliver,” she sobs.

Looking heartbroken, the archer sits down beside her so their legs are next to each other, and pulls her in for a gentle, comforting hug. His warm arms tight around her torso provide a blanket of security, and Felicity buries her head into the crook of Oliver’s neck, crying quietly. One of his hands drop down to settle over the top of hers, which are cradling her baby belly, and squeezes them tenderly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into her hair. “I’m so sorry. I promise, as soon as we get out of here, we’ll get Curtis to fix it. You’ll walk again, sweetheart. Everything might seem bleak now, but it’s gonna be okay.”

“I can barely feel Mia and Tommy moving,” she cries. “Oliver, what if this hurts them?”

“Hey, I’m sure they’re fine,” he cups her face, his expression reassuring. “Remember we did all that research last year into pregnancy and paralysis, when we thought it might be a permanent situation for you? All the research suggested that it’s entirely possible and safe for a patient with paraplegia to carry a baby to term.”

Felicity nods, but can’t help but still worry. They remain in their positions on the floor until the archer’s legs must begin to cramp, as he stretches them out with a wince. Felicity knows that her legs would be cramping and hurting too, if she could feel them. Oliver kisses her forehead fondly and embraces her once again before rising, telling her that he’s going to grab her wheelchair and some chemlights so they can actually see. 

“I need help getting up into it,” Felicity says embarrassedly, when Oliver wheels the chair in front of her. “With the twins… I can’t…”

The archer doesn’t even hesitate to support her, his arms wrapping around her waist just above her swollen belly, as she uses her trembling arms to slowly clamber up into the wheelchair. Considering her huge baby bump places even more weight on her lower body, the chair isn’t particularly comfortable. Hopefully she’ll only have to use it until they get out and Curtis fixes her chip, though.

She rolls over to the conference table and begins to set up some of the chemlights there, while Oliver jogs around the bunker to place more, while checking the security doors and elevator. Judging by his frustrated groans, all of the exits have been sealed off due to the EMP. Felicity suddenly despises the fact that she and Cisco designed the bunker to be so technologically dependent. 

“You know, under different circumstances, these chemlights might seem festive,” Felicity sighs, glancing around the bunker, which is bathed in a pinkish purple hue.

“HELIX has taken everything offline with that EMP,” Oliver tells her. “The emergency exit door - the only one that’s manual - has been welded shut.”

“Welded shut?” Felicity repeats. “HELIX doesn’t have field agents, it’s an organization made up of hacktivists. That must have been Prometheus. You know, if he wasn’t so evil, I might actually be impressed by the lengths he’s gone to, to attack us.” She swallows nervously. “The air vents are gonna be down, too.” Dying from lack of oxygen sounds like a terrible way to go, and she hates to think about how the twins might be affected if the air thins out and they’re deprived.

Oliver runs a hand through his hair. “The air vents should last a little longer. If they fail, we have that oxygen tank in the med bay for you to use when the oxygen concentration starts getting too low but... yeah, we have to get a message out as quickly as possible.”

“For _me_ to use? Oliver, if the vents fail, we’ll be sharing that tank.”

“No, you are using it, and you alone. The twins need oxygen to survive and they get it through gas exchange with your blood supply, which means that _you_ need the oxygen,” he points at her sternly. “I can survive a little oxygen deprivation, Felicity. It’s like altitude sickness, and I had that constantly up in the mountains of Nanda Parbat when I was with the League. My body’s trained to it.”

Felicity is not pleased at all, but has to admit that Oliver’s logic is sound. “Fine. Other than standing at the door and yelling really loudly, I don't really know what our options are for calling for help, since our cell phones are down and comms are broken.”

“We're trapped.” The archer pinches the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted. “Dammit. And there’s no point trying to use explosive arrows against the welded emergency exit door either, because it’s made of that nuclear blast-resistant alloy, Keltium. Even if we had a nuke down here, it wouldn’t work.”

“Seems like Cisco did such a good job of turning this place into an impenetrable fortress, he turned it into an impenetrable death trap,” Felicity snorts.

“Prometheus doesn't want to kill me.” Oliver slides into one of the conference table chairs, steepling his hands together. That haunted emptiness is back in his blue eyes, dulling them even in the sharp purple chemlights. “He made that clear when he held me captive. He wants me to suffer.”

“So he just locked you down here for the fun of it? That doesn’t make it any better, Oliver.” Felicity taps her fingers against her knees, flinching when she can’t feel it. “Do you think HELIX and Prometheus were targeting me and the twins?”

Oliver emits a low, tortured sound and then growls, a feral gleam in his eyes. “God, if they’ve done this to try and harm you…”

Reaching over to grasp the archer’s arm, Felicity gives him a very intense look when he jolts and turns to squint at her. “Oliver. Let’s just focus on getting out of here first, yeah?”

He nods, exhaling. “I can probably get us out of here by climbing up the elevator shaft,” he muses. “Then I could go and get help from the rest of the team.”

Felicity raises an eyebrow and sits back. “If you can think about going up the elevator, HELIX and Prometheus have already thought of a way to stop you.”

“So you're saying it's booby-trapped?”

“I'd bet the three boxes of Eggos in our freezer on it.”

“That’s a strong bet,” Oliver says. “You can’t get enough of Eggos at the moment.”

“It’s my latest craving,” she agrees. “But I’m serious.”

Oliver casts a glance over at the elevator, appearing to be deep in thought for a moment judging by the frown on his face. But then he decides, “The risk of going up the elevator and potentially getting caught in a trap is worth it, if it means there’s a chance of getting you and the twins out of here sooner. I can handle it.”

Felicity eyes him anxiously. She’s getting the worst kind of feeling, that this is a bad idea and Oliver should be keeping his feet firmly on the ground. Maybe the archer is okay with the risk, but she isn’t. “Or we… could figure out a new plan, like getting a signal out to the team,” she suggests.

“You just said that everything with an electrical circuit down here has been fried.”

“Only because I haven't figured out how to get power yet,” she insists. “I might have pregnancy brain at the moment, but I’m still a genius. I’ll think of something!”

“Okay, so you figure out how to get power, and I will go up the elevator shaft.” Oliver is already walking away from her, towards where they keep the climbing equipment.

Felicity stares at him in disbelief before irritation takes over. “Seriously, are you not listening to me? Did the EMP give you short-term amnesia about what we were arguing about down here in the first place?”

Throwing a coil of high-strength rope over his shoulder, Oliver doesn’t even turn to face her when he asks absentmindedly, “What was that?”

Her mouth drops open in indignation. “Trust, Oliver!” she pretty much shouts. He jumps, wheeling around. “You don’t trust me! I need you to stop and actually think before throwing yourself into danger, _trust me_ , and properly consider the option I just gave you! If you just give me some time, I’ll think of something -”

“This feels like the best choice right now,” Oliver interrupts.

“Besides the one I just gave you!” she calls.

He waves her off and stalks off towards the elevator, confidence in his stride, despite the fact that this is such a hazardous plan. Felicity watches him go in exasperation, shaking her head. Dread fills her as Oliver starts to try and set up a safety rope. She has a terrible feeling that the archer is going to get himself injured, and she’s relying on him to keep her safe right now because of how helpless she is.

“Let’s pray that your daddy doesn’t die, potatoes,” she mutters, stroking her hands over the swell of her belly.

* * *

“I told you so, I told you so, I told you so!”

Felicity hurriedly wheels over to where Oliver is currently contorted over the edge of the conference table, bracing himself on his arms, with one of their heavy-duty first aid kits on her lap. Her terrible feeling from before that something was going to go wrong was equitable. Oliver managed to climb about halfway up the elevator shaft before one of the support beams snapped, sending him crashing down a fifteen-foot drop. His safety rope had failed; the archer fell directly onto a large bolt and screw at the bottom of the shaft, that’s now gorged a huge hole out of the left part of his lower back.

Examining the wound carefully, Felicity snaps surgical gloves onto her hands and prods at it gently. It’s sluggishly pumping out dark red blood, which means that the archer is lucky and hasn’t ruptured any arteries. Oliver moans into his arms from the pain, flinching at her touch. “How many times do you think that is?” she asks him sarcastically. “I was not keeping count.”

Oliver just groans again.

“Thirteen, I think, but not nearly enough,” Felicity continues rambling.

“If you say so,” he chokes out.

She reaches down to pull the chemlights they have on the floor nearby up onto the table, and then roots around in the medical bag until she finds a vial of lidocaine. She injects a single dose into his side carefully and allows it to start working while she prepares the suture kit. The lidocaine will take the edge off the worst of his pain, but this is still going to hurt. A lot.

“You ready? Because your operating theater is now lit, and of all the things that I need to do to get us out of this hermetically sealed bunker while I am heavily pregnant with twins and wheelchair-bound, stitching up a wound from a fall that I, by the way -” she glares at him “ - _totally_ predicted... isn't one of them.” She pauses then adds snarkily, “I think that counts as fourteen.”

“Okay, okay,” Oliver cuts her off, his voice strained. He’s shivering beneath his hands, probably from shock. “I’m - I'm ready. Do it.”

Felicity quirks an eyebrow because Oliver is definitely not ready. She preps the needle and thread and very carefully makes the first stitch. The archer doesn’t move despite the agony he must be feeling, but does release an animal-like, indistinct noise that sounds like the yowl Felicity’s old neighbor’s cat used to make when her nail was accidentally stepped on.

“That hurt?” she asks.

“Yes,” Oliver breathes. “Yes, it did.”

“Hmm. I won't say ‘good’, but let the record show... I was tempted,” she smirks. Her expression falls, however, when she realizes that an awkward silence has fallen between them.

It’s time. They need to have the Talk, here and now. This isn’t the perfect location or the best situation, but the circumstances mean that it’s necessary for them to discuss the subject of trust right now.

“Do you remember what we were discussing before we got EMP-blasted?” she questions quietly, continuing to suture up his wound gradually, although it’s extremely difficult considering how it’s essentially a gaping hole.

“Mm-hmm.”

She doubts he’s paying full attention, considering the pain he must be in. The lidocaine isn’t that strong, after all. “You weren’t listening to me when I asked you to let me focus on my work, and you didn’t trust that I could complete the counterhack without overextending myself.”

“With good reason,” he emphasizes, peering pointedly down at her stomach.

She scowls. Her being pregnant is Oliver’s argument for everything these days. “I could say the same thing - _for good reason_ \- about you a million times over and disregard your belief in yourself, but I don’t. Because I support you. Because _I trust you_.”

He groans again as she finishes a particularly complex stitch. “Felicity, I trust you.”

“Really? Because the hole in your back says otherwise,” she mutters. “Stubborn dumb pine tree.”

Grunting, Oliver twists around to look at her with a pained but earnest expression. “Okay. Fair enough.”

Felicity blinks at him in surprise. “That the painkillers talking?” she asks, confused. Because it’s unlike the archer to agree with her on this point right now, considering he’s been opposing it for… well, over a year now.

“If you can come up with a plan that will get us out here, fantastic,” he says. “Let's finish this up, and let's try it.”

Felicity raises her eyebrows, but nods in agreement. If Oliver is actually going to trust her and listen to her ideas, then that’s great. She continues stitching up the wound as best she can, until the hole has mostly been closed. Tying off the sutures, she wipes up the blood dripping down his back with some gauze before carefully placing a bandage over the wound site to protect it from further damage and bacteria. She warns him to keep his movements slow, otherwise he might tear the stitches, and gives him one more dose of lidocaine before allowing him to stand. Oliver grimaces as he pulls his shirt down, not seeming to care about the dried blood that’s crusted over it. He only goes and changes into another t-shirt when Felicity twists, her sensitive stomach twisting with nausea at the sight.

As Oliver struggles with pulling on a fresh shirt, Felicity works up a plan of how they can potentially escape. She knows that there’s no chance of them getting out unless they get the bunker’s mainframe back online, as that’s the only way they’ll be able to open the electronic doors, but in order to do that, they need to generate some power. She eventually comes up with an idea that she thinks might be possible to implement, and is far less risky than doing something like climbing up the elevator shaft.

“We need to head over to the garage,” she tells Oliver sharply. She softens, however, when she sees how he’s squeezing his eyes shut against the pain and is bracing his left side. “Are you gonna be okay to walk around?”

“I think so,” he says, clutching his side.

“We’ll take it slow.”

Oliver walks with a slight limp and has to stop to balance himself on her wheelchair a couple of times, but they eventually make it over to the garage. Felicity makes sure he’s alright with leaning against the wall before wheeling forward hurriedly, searching between the various vans, black sedans, and Ducatis they have, for a very particular vehicle.

“Great, so we're here.” The archer watches her incredulously as Felicity maneuvers her wheelchair around the back of the original Arrow van, which has its bonnet open currently for repairs. “And what are we doing here, exactly?”

She glances over her shoulder at him, having finally found the vehicle she wants. “The mainframe has a built-in cellular chip, and we need to generate enough kilowatts to jump-start it. That should kick the rest of our systems back online.”

“Right, but we can’t,” Oliver frowns, “Because everything with an electronic circuit is fried.”

“Everything with an electronic circuit,” Felicity agrees. She pats the side of Oliver’s old Ducati, the one he used back within his first two years of Arrow work before they were able to get their hands on custom electric bikes thanks to STAR Labs that were faster and more robust. “But this beauty has a good old-fashioned combustion engine, which means -”

“- We can generate electricity without an electronic starter,” Oliver realizes. He limps over quickly to help her out, moving the bike out into a more open space so they can work on it easier. “That’s very smart.”

She smiles smugly. “Like I said before… I’m a genius. Okay, the gas tank is empty, but hopefully we still have a storage can with some gasoline around here somewhere.”

Oliver begins rooting around the garage searching for the storage can. Felicity isn’t very mechanically skilled when it comes to vehicles, but she tries to tinker with the bike’s engine to see whether it’s possible to link it up with the mainframe with some of the spare copper wiring they have lying around, from when the bunker was first built. Every so often, she checks on the archer, worried that his wound might be opening up due to all the bending over he’s doing.

“Thank you for trying things my way,” she eventually tells Oliver.

“First time for everything,” he jokes, but it falls flat. There’s a beat and then he continues, “Regarding earlier, you know why I was being difficult about you running that counterhack, and you know - or you should - that it had nothing to do with a lack of trust.”

“Whether it did or not, you know I don’t like being coddled,” she responds, biting her lip and squinting as she examines the engine’s spark plugs. She pauses and then adds, “Unless I actually want to be coddled. Because I will admit it has been nice to have you fuss over me sometimes because I’m pregnant.”

“It’s because you’re pregnant that I coddle you,” he replies.

“But I told you that I would be fine doing the hack, and you didn’t believe me,” she points out. “You should have trusted me to know my own boundaries - I am the one with the two tiny human beings inside me, after all - and trusted in my skills as, let’s be honest, a far superior hacker to any of those HELIX bozos. But instead, you made me feel like being pregnant made me a burden, rather than an advantage.”

Oliver’s brow furrows, and Felicity is satisfied to see that he looks pensive and upset with himself. “I’m sorry,” he offers. “It wasn’t my intention to make you feel like that. I don’t doubt that you’re the most intelligent person in this city, Felicity, and you have my complete and utter confidence when it comes to your computer abilities. I was just concerned that you were exhausting yourself. The twins have been making it difficult for you, recently.”

“And I admit, I was getting pretty tired,” she sighs. “But Oliver… you say you were just worried, but I still feel like you don’t fully trust me.” She shakes her head, huffing. “Can you believe that we’re having the Talk now, of all times?”

“You said back in December that if we haven’t had the Talk by April, I had permission to lock us up in the same room until we started communicating,” he reminds her.

“And it’s March,” Felicity replies. “And you’re not the one who locked us down here - HELIX and Prometheus have trapped us and we’re running out of oxygen because the ventilation system is down.” Her eyes drop down to his side, and her heart skips a beat when she sees blood beginning to soak through his fresh shirt. “And that hole in your back is getting worse, isn’t it?”

Oliver attempts to pretend that he’s fine, assuring her that the painkillers are working and just making his head a little wonky, but Felicity can see the sweat beading on his forehead and the sheer effort it takes for him to move. He walks with a heavily pronounced limp as he drags the fuel container he’s managed to find across the room back to Felicity.

There’s barely an inch of gasoline in the tank, but they pour it into the bike’s, hopeful that it might be enough to get the engine running. To both of their utter disappointment, however, the engine barely splutters; Felicity is able to get it ticking over for about five minutes before it dies again. She growls under her breath, desperately wanting to punch something in her frustration. Her plan was a great one and undoubtedly would have worked, but now they can’t put it into action, not because of lack of trust, but because of lack of gasoline.

“Got any other ideas?” Oliver asks her, as they make their way back to the conference table with dejected sunken hearts.

“ _Nada_ ,” she answers. “I guess we’re just going to have to hope and pray that the team rescues us before we die of hypoxia.” The archer tilts his head curiously. “Low oxygen concentration in the air causes hypoxemia, low oxygen in your blood, which then causes hypoxia, low oxygen in your body tissues. If it gets bad enough, your organs start to shut down due to the damage. And you die.”

Oliver appears suitably alarmed, and hastily strides over to the medical bay, where he grabs the oxygen tank and rolls it over on a wheely chair next to her. He thrusts the mask into her face. “Put it on. Now.”

“We need to conserve it,” she argues.

“No, you need to make sure you don’t suffer from hypoxemia or hypoxia or anything like that, because you, Mia and Tommy need to survive,” he says seriously.

“We’re both at high risk of hypoxemia at the moment, Oliver - me because I’m pregnant, and you because you’re bleeding out from a hole in your back! In fact, I’d say you should really be the one using the mask because you’re already showing bad symptoms. Rapid, shallow breathing, sweating, paleness -”

“That’s because of my injury, not low oxygen,” he protests.

Annoyed, Felicity fumbles around in the first aid kit that’s still sitting out on the table until she finds two pulse oximeters. She tosses one to Oliver, who catches it in confusion, before slipping her own one onto her finger. “These are gonna measure the oxygen saturation of our hemoglobin. See, I’m at 93. That’s fine, considering the environment we’re in right now. It’s normal for pregnant women to have lower values, too. What’s yours?”

Oliver stares down at the device clipped to his finger for a moment, before he looks up at her, troubled. “89.”

“See! You’re way worse off than me! Most of that is going to be because you’re losing blood through that wound, but it’s still bad, Oliver.” She snaps the oxygen mask into place on his face before he can start arguing with her again. “You’re not taking this off until you’re at least 95, got it?”

They relocate to the couches and common area so Oliver can sit comfortably as he uses the oxygen mask. His oxy-sat score slowly rises, but it takes a good fifteen minutes, so once he’s finished, he insists Felicity sit and use it for five minutes to boost her own levels.

“Do you think John, Evelyn, and the others have figured out we’re trapped here yet?” she asks, her voice muffled by the mask.

“Curtis definitely would have, and he’s probably alerted the rest of the team,” Oliver says. He sounds worryingly strained again, and he’s tilting his head back against the couch cushions as if it’s too much to keep himself upright. The archer is weakening already because of his injury. Felicity sneakily peeks down at his pulse oximeter and is terrified to see that his 95 score of before when he had the mask on, has lowered to 91. “He was going to relieve you from hacking duties for a couple of hours so you could take a nap and get dinner.” He quickly raises his hands into the surrender position. “Not because I didn’t believe you could do it. But because you looked like you were about to pass out. You said it yourself, you were getting tired.”

“Well, I’m glad you did call him now, because it means we’re likely to get rescued all the sooner.” Pulling the mask down so it sits around her neck, Felicity prods at her swollen stomach, swallowing when she can’t feel the sensation of her fingertips against her skin; she sighs in relief, however, when she feels Mia and Tommy land firm kicks against her palm, as if reassuring her that they’re okay.

Catching her expression, Oliver asks quietly, “How are they doing?”

“They’re as lively as ever,” she reassures him.

“Can I -” he reaches his hand out hesitantly.

She nods and rolls her wheelchair closer so Oliver can rest his hand on top of her belly. The contact without sensation causes her to flinch instinctively; even though she remembers what it felt like before, when she was paralyzed over a year ago and lived without feeling in her lower body for a good couple of months, suddenly not having the microchip in her spine working is terrifying. He grasps her hand with his free one and squeezes it gently in comfort. Felicity focuses on the archer’s look of awe as he feels Mia and Tommy kicking inside of her instead of her fear.

“They’re okay,” he says to himself, sounding relieved.

“Yeah.” She’s about to smile at him, but then catches sight of Oliver’s face, which has turned white as a sheet. “You’re not.”

“I’m fine,” he shakes his head, but his voice is slightly slurred. He stands shakily and begins to walk over to the bunker’s kitchenette. “Just… need some water or something.”

He collapses onto his knees, breathing heavily.

“Oliver!” Felicity shouts in alarm.

He doesn’t respond beyond more raspy gasps for oxygen, falling from his knees onto his uninjured side - luckily the wall is only a couple of inches behind him so he can slump back on it.

“Oliver! Oliver, stay awake!”

She rolls her wheelchair over hurriedly and, seeing she has no other choice, lifts herself out of it onto the floor, wincing as her hip collides with the cold floor. She cradles her baby bump protectively and supportively as she shuffles over to him, hating her unresponsive, unfeeling legs more than anything else. She claps his cheeks gently, lifting his chin in an attempt to get him to meet her eyes. Oliver’s head lolls and his eyes are half-lidded, filled with pain and fatigue.

“Hey, hey, hey. You’ve got to stay awake, okay?

“I think I'm losing a lot of blood,” he wheezes.

She laughs nervously. “Tell me something I don't know.”

He pauses and then says, weight to his voice, “Felicity, I'm so sorry.” The archer sniffles, tears in his eyes, as he sinks forward to rest his damp forehead against her shoulder.

Trying to push Oliver upright again, Felicity prods him sharply in the shoulder, hoping that the sudden pain will cause him to jump back to alertness. It doesn’t. If anything, his breathing gets even shallower, his chest rising and falling weakly. “Normally, I would relish an Oliver Queen apology, but this sudden admission is making me anxious,” she tries to joke.

It falls short, because Oliver just regards her seriously, despite his deteriorating condition making him barely able to focus and remain conscious. “You were right. I didn't have your back, and I - I didn’t express enough faith in you, Felicity.” He stumbles over his words as if he’s drunk. “But it’s - it’s not because I don’t trust you, it’s not just because I worry… It’s so much more than that.”

Felicity worriedly checks his pulse oximeter and releases a low cry of panic when she sees that it’s plummeted to 87. “Okay. Lots of blood loss with low oxygen levels make you go crazy,” she muses, her voice high with alarm. “Now we know that.”

His hand falls on top of hers, which is resting on his chest, and he holds it loosely, as if he can’t find the strength to grasp it properly. “I need you to hear this.”

She nods frantically. “I will later, alright? Right now we need to -”

He cuts her off, blinking tiredly. “I might not have a later.”

Her heart _stops_. “No, do _not_ talk like that!”

“I need you to know the truth,” Oliver continues, tugging her hand insistently. He’s on the verge of passing out, and yet seems so determined to keep talking.

Felicity can’t deny him this, not when he’s so desperately trying to stay awake for her. “About what?” she whispers.

“Everything that happened between us, William and the lying and the break-up, it was not because of you or lack of trust. It was because of me,” Oliver tells her, his voice garbled and broken. His expression is completely hopeless, his blue eyes stormy with regret and defeat and _sadness_. “It was because of me. I'm - I’m not the man you think I am. I'm not the man you fell in love with, I’m not the man who deserves to be a father to Will or the twins. I - I put the hood on to right my father's wrongs, but the basis of it, the - the foundation of it and what you did and what Dig did and what the team did in my name -” he sobs, the sound heartwrenching, “ - it was all based on a lie.”

Staring back at him in confusion, she asks quietly, “What are you talking about?”

“Prometheus - he showed me when held me captive that I didn't do what I did to be a hero,” Oliver moans. His head drops back against the wall with a crack that makes Felicity wince. “I did what I did because there was a part of me - a bigger part than I would like to admit -” he’s fully crying at this point, tears rolling down his face that Felicity wipes away tenderly with her thumbs “ - that enjoyed it. I enjoyed killing.”

His eyes are piercing but he looks utterly beaten down as he raises a trembling hand to brush her blonde hair back over her shoulder.

“H-how could I be a good partner, a good father if I’m… if I’m a murderer? Maybe that’s why I don’t… don’t want to allow anybody close to me. There’s something _very wrong with me_ … a monster _deep down inside_ , that I can’t… control. I think subconsciously I’ve been… pushing you away to… protect you. I lied because… I didn’t wanna hurt or lose you... because _I love you_ , Felicity, but I’m stupid, I’m so _stupid_. I know I don’t deserve you and I didn’t… didn’t want you to see what a dark person I truly am.” He shudders. “It's not about not trusting you. I will always trust you. I don't trust myself.”

Before Felicity can think of anything to say, because she’s so devastated by what she’s hearing him say that she’s speechless, Oliver’s eyes flutter closed and he goes boneless. “Oliver, don’t! Don’t fall asleep. Oliver, Oliver!”

She shakes his shoulders, fearful that if he falls unconscious, there’s a chance he might not wake up. That there’s a possibility that this might be the last chance for him to hear her speak - the last chance for her to admit to him that she still loves him.

“Hey! Hey! Oliver, come back! Come back! Oliver!” He doesn’t stir. Felicity clutches at him, failing to stifle her sobs of horror. “Oliver, _I love you!_ Please, don’t leave me alone. I need you, the twins need their father. Please, Oliver... Come back!”

* * *

_**To Be Continued** _


	9. March (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are guys - 5x20 part 2. congrats on being so patient for the last week lol. i really hope you enjoy it. i've been kinda nervous about this one. thanks to sam for cheerleading me through the last scene.
> 
> as you may have heard if you follow me on twitter - i finally finished the (re-)write of the fic by completing the epilogue, with a lot of help from sam and calli. yay! this means uninterrupted weekly postings from now on :)
> 
>  **trigger warnings** : once again, description and discussion of injuries and wounds, medical terminology, discussion of past torture and trauma

Felicity isn’t sure whether or not she regrets joining Oliver on the floor, because there’s no way she’s able to climb back into her wheelchair with her huge baby belly, which means she’s stuck. _But,_ she can keep a close eye on Oliver, which is a good thing. She also can’t grab any medical equipment from the med bay because everything’s up on high counters. Felicity manages to slide along the floor over to the conference table to grab the medical kit, which luckily has a heart monitor, and uses one of the wheeley chairs to move the oxygen machine over as well.

Oliver’s heart rate is low, but steady, fortunately, and his horrifically low oxygen saturation score of 82 is brought up to a meager 89 when Felicity gets the mask strapped to his face. She maneuvers him gently onto his injured side so she can check his wound - immediately, she fights the urge to throw up as blood smears across her hands the moment she pulls back the gauze. Her sutures have stretched and are straining to keep the gaping hole in the archer’s back closed, but they haven’t snapped yet, which is good. The wound seems agitated, which is why it’s still bleeding, but Felicity has hope that it will re-clot soon. They’ll be able to get Oliver a blood transfusion and an IV as soon as they’re rescued - _if they’re rescued_ , she corrects herself grimly. It’s been three hours now, and there’s no sign of the team.

She replaces the bandage and then, since she has nothing to do except worry about Oliver, Felicity settles down beside him, leaning back on the wall and stroking over her swollen stomach. She’s been quite lucky, really, that she hasn’t needed to pee yet, but she can feel the pressure of the two huge babies inside her and knows that it won’t be long now. She’s also starving, and pretty thirsty - there was a bottle of water in the medkit that she’s drank half of, saving the other half for Oliver when he wakes up, but she’s still parched.

Exhausted, Felicity lies against the archer with her head resting on his shoulder and his heart monitor in hand, listening to the regular, but slow beeps. The sound reassures her that Oliver is still alive, and with that relief, she drifts off into an uneasy sleep. When he finally returns to consciousness, his shoulder jolts, jerking Felicity back to full alertness.

“Oliver?” she says hopefully. His eyes crack open and he groans lowly. “Oliver!” She tries to shift herself so she’s facing him with a muttered, “Oh, damn it. Wake up. Come on, wake up!” She sighs in relief when he blinks at her blearily. “Hey.”

He tries to lean forward, but twinges his wound and ends up exclaiming in agony, “ _Fuck_ ,” before he runs his gaze up and down her concerned, as if she’s the one in medical trouble and not him, who just passed out from blood loss and oxygen deprivation. “Are you okay? Are the twins?”

“Oh my God,” she laughs breathily. He’s back to his normal self, then. “You're okay.”

“I think the wound re-clotted,” Oliver mutters.

“Don’t stand up!” Felicity admonishes, as soon as he gets his arms beneath him. “Be careful. I don’t want you passing out on us again. You had me worried sick!”

“Alright,” he replies tiredly, sinking back against the wall again. “I’ll - I’ll sit.”

“Good. Excellent. No more moving around for you, mister, until we’re certain you’re not going to die from blood loss.” She checks his wound again, peeking underneath the new bandage. His jerking around hasn’t made it any worse, thank god. “You’re really going to need to get this cleaned out properly. You’ll end up getting septicemia otherwise.”

“Pretty sure I’m going to die from oxygen deprivation before I die of blood poisoning, Felicity,” he sighs.

“No, you’re not, because we are going to get rescued!” she insists.

“Felicity, I don't - I don't know that I can get us out of here.”

“Well, we’ll just have to rely on the team saving us,” she says. She’s trying to remain optimistic. “It will give us some time to talk about something... like this crazy idea that you enjoy killing.” Oliver tilts his head back with a tired sigh. “That's why you tried to disband the team, isn't it?

“Yeah,” he admits, ashamed.

“Because Prometheus convinced you that your mission to save the city was based on a lie and that you dragged us into it under false pretenses?”

The archer emits a frustrated, remorseful noise. “I used my crusade to stop the criminal elite on the List as an excuse to kill during my first year home.”

“I don’t believe that,” she argues. “You’re not a murderer, Oliver.”

“You have no idea what kind of person I am,” he says sadly.

Felicity grasps his arm firmly, forcing him to look at her. “Listen, I wouldn't have fallen in love with you, wanted to marry you, or want to raise our kids with you, if I didn't know exactly the kind of man that you are.” Oliver grimaces at her, and tries to look away, but Felicity takes a hold of his chin and turns his face so he has to make eye contact with her. Her voice determined, she carries on, “Oliver, Prometheus tortured you for a week. He did unimaginable things to hurt and break you. You're the toughest and strongest person I know, but anyone - anyone - would have admitted to being a salsa-dancing giraffe in a tutu after what he put you through.”

“Prometheus didn't make me a killer,” he responds quietly, resignedly.

“No,” Felicity allows. “Five years in hell did that. Five years dealing with this city's worst, fighting for your life every night and facing down against criminals who gave you no other choice, because a lot of the time it’s ‘kill or be killed’, did that.” He still doesn’t seem to get it, shaking his head in disagreement, as if those are just excuses, and not viable explanations. “You have spent a decade dealing with nightmares and terrors that most people don't even realize exist, and the fact that that didn't turn you into a monster proves exactly the kind of person that you are. Because you call yourself a monster, Oliver, but that is not who you are.”

“Then who am I?” he whispers, sounding despairing.

“My Oliver is kind, and caring, and considerate. He’s selfless and cares more about his friends and family and even _strangers_ , than he cares about himself. He throws himself into battle to save people he doesn’t know the names of, and would do anything to protect innocent people. My Oliver strives to be the hero Star City requires, the leader our team needs… the father our children deserve.” She caresses his jaw gently when she sees he’s crying. “My Oliver loves with his whole heart. He’s not a monster. He’s the kind of person I am honored to call my best friend… and partner.”

Oliver whimpers, the sound stabbing Felicity in the heart. “I don't know what kind of person I am.”

“Okay,” she murmurs. “Then be the kind of person you _want_ to be.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible, Felicity.”

“Anything is possible when it comes to you, Oliver.” She raises his bruised hands to kiss his knuckles lightly. She spots his eyes slipping shut again and instantly panics. “Don’t you dare pass out on me again, Oliver Queen!”

“S’very hard to stay ‘wake,” he slurs.

“Mia and Tommy are kicking the _shit_ out of my kidneys right now, wanna feel them?” she asks, hoping a distraction might help keep him conscious. She presses his hands against the taut curve of her belly, but his fingers slide off limply. “Oliver, please, don’t pass out!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Can’t really help it. Need… need to apologize for so much... more as well, but can’t… can’t really… focus right now.”

“Just focus on staying awake,” she begs. “I don’t care about you apologizing as long as you don’t leave me and the twins, okay?”

Oliver huffs, and then his chest jerks violently, coughs spluttering from his dry throat. Felicity bites back a sob of horror when blood trickles over his lips, indicative of internal bleeding. “You should care. I… I ruined… everything.”

“Okay, I care,” she agrees hurriedly, patting his cheeks again to keep him conscious. She’s debating prodding at his wound; maybe the pain will help him stay awake? “I really care about an apology, so you need to stay alive to give me one, alright?”

Tears spring to the archer’s eyes as he tries to raise a trembling hand to touch her, but appears to be too weak to even move his arm, his hand just twitching. Felicity grasps it tightly. “I love you so much,” he chokes out. “You - don’t need to say it… back. I - I heard you earlier… trying to get me to - to stay awake… I won’t ask you to say it again. Just needed to tell you - one last time… before I…”

“Oliver Jonas Queen, if you die on me I will bring you back to life with the sore purpose of killing you all over again for having the sheer nerve to think I’d stand for your twins growing up without their father!” she shouts desperately. “I love you and I refuse to lose you, you hear me?”

He stares at her, his glazed-over eyes full of wonder. “Do you... mean that?” he wheezes.

“Of course I do!” she cries. “I’ve always loved you, Oliver - I always will. Nothing terrifies me more than having to imagine a life without you.” He drops his head onto her shoulder with a gasping breath and then all of a sudden, just… _stops_. “Oliver? Oliver!?” Felicity pushes him back, cupping his pale face. He slumps to the side listlessly, unconscious. “Oh god no, please! Oliver!”

He doesn’t respond.

Felicity can’t even tell if he’s breathing.

“Oliver!” she screams.

* * *

The team finally manages to rescue them around forty minutes after Oliver passes out. John recruits Lyla, who provides them with ARGUS climbing gear and a high-power portable generator that Curtis externally hooks up to the bunker’s grid, bringing most of the emergency systems back online.

Felicity has been looking after Oliver as well as she possibly can while he’s been unconscious, re-suturing his wound and strapping the oxygen mask to his face when his oxy-sat numbers get too low. Occasionally she’s been using it herself as well for five minute periods, worried when her own oxygen levels drop - they never become as abysmal as Oliver’s, but they’re still concerning considering she’s pregnant - and is relieved when the ventilation starts working again, flooding the bunker with fresh air.

She’s recovering from a dizzy spell brought on by the sudden influx of high oxygen air when John and Evelyn repel down the elevator shaft and rush over to them. John immediately begins checking Oliver’s vitals while Evelyn fusses over Felicity, asking anxiously if she and the twins are okay. She reports that they haven’t found Prometheus anywhere near the premises, despite evidence that he tampered with the emergency doors, but Rory and Rene have been out sweeping the area.

When the blonde catches sight of John’s alarmed look, she realizes that Oliver must be in a much more life-threatening condition than she thought; he quickly radios up to Lyla, who is on the surface with the rest of the team, to request an ARGUS medical evacuation team for both the archer and Felicity.

Using one of the emergency protocols, Curtis gets the garage doors open so that the medical team can wheel stretchers down to them. Panicking when they lift Oliver up onto his stretcher and start taking him away, she frantically tells them that they’re not taking him anywhere without her. It takes some time to get Felicity safely up onto her own gurney due to the size of her baby bump, but once she’s settled and lying down, they wheel the archer and blonde out side by side, so Felicity can clutch at Oliver’s hand. They end up separating them anyway when they get them to the private ambulances, but John reassures Felicity that he’ll stay with Oliver and make sure they take good care of him, while Evelyn, Curtis, and Lyla stick with her.

The journey to the nearest ARGUS building with medical facilities is one Felicity spends stricken with worry over whether or not Oliver is going to survive. She overhears Lyla muttering under her breath to Curtis and Evelyn that he lost a lot of blood and was definitely suffering from hypoxemia when they reached him, which only concerns her further.

She sits still and stares up at the roof of the ambulance, biting her lip, as Curtis works at her side to get her microchip back online. She knows when it starts working again because her feet begin tingling and a painfully hot sensation rushes through her legs, her nerves on fire. At least she’s not helpless anymore and can walk, but Felicity can’t help but think that it’s too late; if she’d been able to walk earlier, she might have been able to descend to the bunker’s lower level, where they kept all the blood bags in cold storage, and hooked Oliver up to a transfusion so he wasn’t on death’s door when they were finally rescued.

“You’re very quiet,” Lyla says softly, squeezing Felicity’s hand as they transfer her from the ambulance into the ARGUS medical bay. The blonde slowly looks over at her, pausing in her frantic glancing around for Oliver. Lyla offers her a small smile. “They’re going to take him straight into surgery, Felicity. We have the best doctors in the country working at this facility, they’ll take good care of him.”

“I want to be with him,” Felicity whispers.

“You’ll be with him soon,” Lyla reassures her. “I’ll talk to the medical team and make sure that the two of you end up in the same recovery room. But right now, we need to check that you and the twins are alright. Oliver would want to make sure you and the babies are safe, wouldn’t he?”

Lyla is right, of course. If Oliver was awake, he would be scaring the shit out of the medics by insisting that Felicity get treated first, despite bleeding out himself. Felicity’s missed Lyla; the last time she saw her was months ago, at the Team Arrow New Year’s party. Her friend has been so busy running ARGUS, raising her own kid, and negotiating extra funds from the UN in Switzerland, that she and Felicity have hardly spent any time together since the blonde discovered her pregnancy. Lyla has a very calming presence, and Felicity finds herself relaxing ever so slightly as she holds her hand.

Nodding, Felicity lies back down on her gurney and sighs heavily, stroking her palms over her baby bump. “Okay. I just - I don’t want him to wake up without us.”

The ultrasound one of the ARGUS doctors gives Felicity is less than as happy an occasion her last ultrasounds have been. Lyla departs, saying she’s going to go and check up on the rest of the team and put them up in some of the bunks for the night, but the blonde is left with Evelyn for company. The recruit has found a fond place in Felicity’s heart, so much so that she’s beginning to see Evelyn as her and Oliver’s sort of adoptive daughter. The girl massages Felicity’s lower back, which has started painfully cramping since Curtis fixed the microchip in her spine, and then sits close to the medical bed by her side when the doctor gets the sonogram equipment out. The ultrasound is quick and clinical, and the doctor only speaks to inform her about the twins.

“Both of them appear fine,” she observes. “You said you didn’t directly fall onto your stomach at all?”

“No,” Felicity confirms.

The doctor hums, and much too soon for Felicity’s liking, begins packing everything away again. She doesn’t even offer any printed photos. Felicity resists the urge to glare. “There are no signs of any impact injuries, and they seem to be active and fit. Both your boys are healthy. As for you, you have minimal bruising and your oxy-sats are back to 96, without any lasting damage, although your blood sugar levels are low. We’ll put you on an IV for nutrients to be safe, and I’ll send somebody in with some orange juice and crackers.”

Felicity’s brain short-circuited mid-way through the doctor’s statement, because there’s a very particular phase that she uttered that she is extremely confused and stupefied by. She must have misheard. Evelyn doesn’t have a reaction beyond delighted - she and Oliver have been keeping the genders secret, after all, so this is the first time she’s hearing of it - but Felicity reckons she must have heard correctly. “I’m sorry, did you say both _boys?_ ”

The doctor nods.

“But Dr Schwartz said we’re having a boy and a girl,” she says, her eyes wide.

Shrugging, the doctor offers the short impassive explanation, “It’s possible to misgender babies at the second ultrasound if they’re in the wrong position or moving around too much. Maybe one of your boys was being shy. But you’re definitely having two boys.”

Shock ripples through Felicity’s body like ice spreading through her veins. Her jaw hanging open, she turns to Evelyn, shaking her head in utter disbelief. The girl’s eyes are as round as plates, filled with pure surprise. Dr Schwartz made a mistake? They’ve thought this entire time that they’re having a girl and a boy, when they’re actually having...

_Two boys._

So she’s not having Mia and Tommy.

She’s having Tommy and Lucas.

Oh, wow. Oliver’s entire world is going to be rocked with this revelation. She’s annoyed and angered for a fleeting moment that he can’t be here to learn this news with her, because the damn man really had to go and get himself badly injured enough to need life-saving surgery. But also, once that irritation fades, she’s glad that he’s not here, because she suspects that the archer would probably just… pass out or hyperventilate himself into unconsciousness.

Felicity knows that she could react to this news in numerous different ways. She could burst into tears or scream with joy, or she could fall silent and remain speechless. But there’s one singular thing that’s on her mind right now, and it’s this:

_“MY FOUR-PAGE ESSAY WAS RIGHT!”_

* * *

After the doctor departs the room, leaving Felicity and Evelyn behind, the blonde swears the recruit to secrecy about the twins’ genders before Curtis pokes his head in, bring a juice carton and packaged chocolate chip cookie. As Felicity eagerly slurps at the orange juice and devours her snack - being pregnant with twins makes her hungry at practically all times - she texts Dr Schwartz about what the ARGUS doctor said about genders. The doctor responds with a sincere apology, seemingly flabbergasted that she got it wrong. Felicity replies that she doesn’t mind - they haven’t bought gendered clothes or baby stuff, and haven’t done anything specific with their chosen names yet, so it doesn’t really matter - and she actually finds the whole situation rather funny. Once she’s finished, Curtis asks if she’s tried walking yet. She hasn’t, and is quite nervous to.

With both of the recruits supporting her arms and half of her weight, in case she ends up crashing down onto her knees, Felicity pushes herself off the medical bed and takes a tentative step. Relieved when the muscles in her legs respond to her wishes, she takes another, until she’s carefully shuffling across to the door. Nodding to them that she’s okay to walk on her own, Felicity grabs the ARGUS hoodie the doctor provided for if she gets cold, shrugging it on and heading down the corridor in search of Oliver, with Curtis and Evelyn tailing her.

Rounding a corner, she catches sight of John, Dinah, Rene, and Rory waiting, sitting on some of those plastic flimsy chairs often found in hospital waiting rooms.

“Hey. Any word on Oliver?” she asks breathlessly, hurrying up to them at a speed that is phenomenal considering she’s waddling with a house attached to her front, but is actually no faster than a non-pregnant person would walk.

John stands, stretching out. “Lyla's checking now. Everything okay with the twins?”

“Oh yeah, they’re fine. Just as enthusiastic about parkour as ever,” she laughs.

Leaning sideways, he peers over her shoulder at Evelyn, asking sneakily, “Anything to report, rookie?”

“Felicity made me promise not to tell you the genders,” the girl immediately responds, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly. “Upon pain of never being invited to hers and Oliver’s for dinner again. And he makes the best chicken cordon bleu.”

John's lips tick up into a smile. “Had to try. Got to say, Felicity, it's good to see you up and walking again.”

“Yeah, thank Curtis. He's the miracle worker.” She glances back at the man with a grateful look.

“It's just a temporary fix. I'll have to run more comprehensive diagnostics later,” Curtis waves the praise off.

Still seated on her chair, Dinah’s gazes rockets between all of them, appearing suitably baffled. “You guys are gonna have to explain to me how all this works one day.”

“Nah, you really don't want them to do that,” Rene mutters, nudging her. “They have lives that could be turned into an eight season long drama TV show, they’re so hectic.”

Rolling her eyes, Felicity opens her mouth to chide Rene and tell Dinah that they’ll catch her up with everything soon, but is interrupted by Lyla appearing at the other end of the corridor, striding towards them. She has a clipboard in hand that undoubtedly has a copy of the archer’s chart. A small grin spreads across her face when she sees the whole team huddled together in the corridor, and all of them rising as she approaches.

Felicity looks at her hopefully, side-stepping around John and Dinah so she can get closer to her, cradling her swollen stomach. “Oliver?”

“He just got out of surgery. That hole in his back was a complicated one to suture up, but the doctor said that you’d done such a good job of it earlier that it didn’t take many new stitches to close. A blood transfusion and some time using an oxygen mask sorted out his oxy-sats, and there wasn’t any sign of brain hypoxia. He's going to be fine,” Lyla assures her.

“Is he awake?” she asks urgently, afraid that Oliver might have woken without her present and freaked out because of that. “Can we see him?”

“He’s still asleep, but before they put him under anesthesia, he asked to see you,” Lyla says, with a faint smirk. “You said you’d like to be there when he wakes up? C’mon, I can take you to his room. You’re going to end up staying in there with him anyway.”

All of the recruits exchange knowing, excited looks, while John laughs under his breath. Felicity thinks she hears him murmur _about time_ , so shoots him a half-hearted glower; she leans up to kiss his cheek before following Lyla back down the corridor, to where Oliver’s room - which is soon to be their shared recovery room - must be. John calls after her that they’ll see her and Oliver in the morning, and to text if they need anything.

Felicity throws back two thumbs-up to them, but is focused more on trying to squash down the worry and anxiety she feels for Oliver that’s accumulating in her chest, making her lungs feel like they’ve been encased in lead. 

“He’s in here,” Lyla whispers, tapping the doorframe quietly. It looks to be a small private medical room. “A doctor will be through in a couple of minutes to get you set up with an IV and check his morphine drip. Try and get some rest… the four of you have had a trying day.”

“I think the twins strangely enjoyed it,” Felicity huffs, poking the taut skin of her stomach. “Adrenaline junkies, just like their father.”

“And their mother,” Lyla chuckles.

“Hey, I don’t go looking for danger, the danger finds me.”

“You’re a magnet.” Lyla motions down at her belly. “Those two are going to be as well, without a doubt.”

“Please don’t jinx it,” the blonde groans.

Oliver appears to be deeply asleep when Felicity silently enters the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, but he looks miles better than he did down in the bunker, with a pink flush to his cheeks and his breathing even. The heart monitor strapped to him beeps steadily, showing a safe baseline. He has a slight temperature, but his oxy-sats are back to a healthy 98. Changed into white cotton hospital pajamas and covered with a blue blanket, he looks younger, like he’s in his early twenties rather than early thirties.

Felicity draws a chair over from the wall so she can sit at his bedside, wincing as her back twinges and aches when she tries to sit down. She has to do this weird thing where she arches her spine so her huge baby belly sticks out as she takes a seat, to avoid losing her balance or knocking herself on the side of Oliver’s bed. Once settled down, Felicity slips her hand into his lax one that doesn’t have the IV line in it, squeezing gently to reassure herself that he’s okay. His fingers are cold, but that’s most likely to due to the room’s AC, and not blood loss.

“Your daddy’s okay, Lucas and Tommy,” she murmurs to the twins, patting her stomach. “Might take him a month or two to recover from this, but he’s gonna survive. He’s lucky. How your father manages to attract the worst possible dangers but also the best luck when it comes to living through them, I’ll never understand.”

Oliver doesn’t wake up before a doctor comes in to fiddle with his morphine drip and place Felicity on her own nutrient IV - she closes her eyes and concentrates on Oliver’s hand in hers to try and ignore the needle - but his eyelids begin flickering as soon as the two of them (four of them, Felicity reminds herself, because the twins count) are left alone together. Slowly, he begins to regain consciousness, his eyes fluttering open until they’re half-lidded. He’s dazed but seems aware of his surroundings which is a good thing.

“Felicity?” he asks feebly, his head lolling when he turns to face her.

“Hey, champ,” she smiles. “How are you feeling?”

“I lived,” he mumbles. “Yay.”

“Yeah, congrats, sweetheart, you survived another life-threatening injury,” she laughs, wiping away relieved tears. When he begins coughing, she instantly rises to go and fetch the cup of ice chips the doctor placed in the mini-fridge that’s usually used for storing temperature-sensitive drugs in the corner of the room. “Here, they said your throat was gonna be dry.” She picks one of the slippery chips up with her bare fingers and feeds it to him, refusing to feel embarrassed by the way she can feel a flush spreading across her face when his lips brush against her fingertips. “Better?”

He nods and then adds in awe, “You’re walking.”

“Yeah, Curtis fixed up the chip,” she tells him, taking her seat once again. “But more importantly - you’re living. You really gave us a scare back there. The twins were not very happy when you passed out on me, you know. They’re fine, by the way, in case you were worried. Who am I kidding, of course you were… you’re always worried about me and the babies, one way or another. But yeah… super happy you didn’t die.”

He exhales, his chest jerking with his own weak chuckles. “Oh, you know, I figured you'd be used to seeing me close to death by now.”

Felicity quickly sobers, telling him seriously, “Never gonna get used to it. Ever. Don’t particularly want to either.”

“Speaking of being close to death, uh…” The archer’s eyes snap down to his hands, which he fidgets with nervously. His finger and thumb of his dominant hand rub together in that anxious archer tick of his. “I - I said a few things back there, that…” he trails off and then swallows, before glancing up at her with a painfully sincere look. “Felicity, I really, really appreciate what you said. About… about me and who I am to you. I really needed to hear that.”

Her heart soars. “Any of it stick?” she asks.

“Hopefully.” Oliver reaches for her hand and folds it between his own. His intense, earnest expression remains on his face, causing Felicity frown. “Now I’m not in danger of dying… can I please give you the apologies I owe you?”

“Oliver… you don’t need to -”

“I do,” he cuts in. “I’m sorry, Felicity. I can’t apologize enough for how stupid, irresponsible and disrespectful I was towards you by lying to you repeatedly and deliberately keeping such a huge, personal secret from you. While I could say it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you, and it because I was scared of Samantha refusing to let me see William if she found out I told you… I know that’s a ridiculous excuse, because I knew then and I know now that you can keep a secret if your life depends on it, and I know I can trust you with everything in my life. You probably would have even helped me try to get partial custody if I’d told you; you would have supported me throughout it all if I’d included you like I should have, because that’s just who you are. My remarkable, wonderful Felicity Smoak, who is always so kind and compassionate, and would do anything to help me, and help an innocent child.”

“Oliver…” Felicity doesn’t realize that she’s crying until Oliver uses the pad of his thumb to gently brush away her tears.

He continues, his voice breaking from emotion: “You were right when you said that marriage is about inclusion. It was so unbelievably wrong of me to propose to you when I knew there was such a giant secret between us. I was an idiot for thinking that it was okay to leave you to go and see my son behind your back in Central City, when you were recovering from being attacked and paralyzed. I was living this perfect delusion, thinking I could balance things - lying to you, keeping secrets from you, for the sake of pleasing Samantha and visiting my son - and I think I just... didn't want to pop that bubble we were living in. I’m especially sorry for not telling you about William even after people started to discover my secret, because you should have been the first person to find out - you should have been the first person I told. I’m sorry for listening to Barry’s advice in the first place about not telling you, because… let’s be honest, he can be a dumbass sometimes, and I was a complete fool to agree with him in that instance.”

Felicity can’t help but laugh at Oliver’s statement about Barry, and he shoots her a raised eyebrow, prompting her to force herself to adopt a serious look again.

“And I can’t apologize enough for insisting on that awful fake wedding; I subconsciously knew the pain it would put you through, but I put my own hopes first, and didn’t understand that it was inconsiderate, and selfish. I - I didn’t place your need for space before my need for _you_. Just the entire situation, and how I dealt with our break-up… I just wanted to believe that our love was enough, when love was never the problem. It was trust and honesty. And I wasn’t honest with you. I hurt you, and never properly acknowledged how much. I promise I will never lie to you again, or keep secrets, or exclude you from the important aspects of my life. It’s completely understandable if you never forgive me for everything I put you through.”

He takes a shuddering breath, and finishes, “But I love you, Felicity. I hope you can forgive me. Because I love you more than it’s probably healthy to love another human being. I rely on you, and my life would not be worth anything without you in it. You make me a better person and inspire me to be a better leader and hero for our team and city. I’m honored to be the father of your children and I want… I want to spend the rest of my life with you and our family.”

Felicity is overwhelmed by the depth and magnitude of his apology. She can feel the twins kicking around inside of her, reminding her that she can’t lose herself in her thoughts. “I forgive you,” she whispers, moving from her chair to the edge of his hospital bed with a wince, bracing her belly with one arm. “Because I love you too, Oliver. Love, and the amount of love between us, was never the issue. I didn’t think it was possible for me to love somebody as much as I love you. And I want you to know… I get it. I understand why you felt as if you had to lie to me about William. You hurt me, but you didn’t mean to. You only ever had good intentions. Ultimately, everything you did was because you were - and are - a father trying to protect his child, and you did what you thought you had to, in that complex situation Samantha placed you in, to do that.”

“Samantha was only trying to protect William,” Oliver mutters.

“From the jackass who knocked her up but died on the Queen’s Gambit,” Felicity points out. “Samantha may have been acting on motherly instincts, Oliver, but she didn’t even give you a chance, or get to know the real, new improved you, before she gave you that ultimatum. You shouldn’t feel guilty because she placed those restrictions on you, because she thought you’re the same man you were ten years ago.”

The archer looks displeased, but nods his agreement.

“I can’t fault you for doing everything you possibly could to be a dad, and doing whatever it took to be the best parent possible to William, when I know what that’s like now, since I’m pregnant with our babies. And for the extent that I judged you for everything you did - and I did judge you - I'm sorry. I’m sorry for walking out on you and breaking things off before I gave you the proper chance to explain - before we could have an adult conversation about our issues. I’m even more sorry for the fact that I’ve been unwilling to have this discussion with you since we separated. I was scared, and the wounds still stung… I didn’t want to open them up anymore. But I went about it all the wrong way. I did say that marriage is about inclusion, but I shut you out. I shouldn’t have done that.” She dips her head forward until she’s resting her forehead against his, and whispers, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, too. With our twins and our family and our team. I love you.”

“I know.” When she tilts her head in confusion, the archer smiles and tucks a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “I heard you. That day I fell asleep on your lap, after you rescued me from Prometheus. You said it. And I heard you. You gave me the courage to keep going, to keep living at a time I was considering giving up. I love you too,” Oliver repeats, his voice cracking with a sob. “I love you so much.”

Felicity finally gives in to that urge that’s been pestering her for the last couple of minutes, leaning down as well as she can with a giant pregnancy belly and pressing her lips to his softly. She has to be gentle because he’s still badly injured, but she hopes that he senses that her tentativeness is only due to his physical condition, and nothing to do with any hesitation she has towards this.

The archer relaxes instantly, smiling into the kiss, and strokes his hands down her arms until he’s cradling her swollen stomach tenderly. His lips send little tendrils of fire flickering through Felicity’s veins, warming her from the inside out. For the first time in over a year, she feels unmistakeably, truthfully _happy_. Breaking the kiss briefly, Oliver peppers tiny, sweet kisses along her jawline and nuzzles his nose against hers.

“God, I’ve missed doing that with you,” she whispers.

“So much better when we’re fully conscious,” Oliver murmurs, obviously referencing the disaster that was January, when she kissed him while half-asleep. “We’re doing this then?”

“Getting back together? I hope so. We just gave apology monologues and poured our hearts out to each other,” Felicity jokes.

“There are a couple more apologies I need to give you, though,” Oliver sighs. “I’m so sorry for putting you and the twins within HELIX and Prometheus’ gunsights. Just being associated with me has made you all targets and that’s my fault. Everything that happened today with the bunker… the EMP, your microchip failing, me getting injured making that stupid elevator shaft climb, us almost dying of oxygen deprivation… that’s on me, too. You and the twins were placed in mortal danger today because of me.”

“Oliver, none of that is your fault,” she shakes her head firmly. “That’s HELIX and Prometheus’ faults. If anything, I should apologize for not being able to find us a way to escape, after my motorbike plan failed. You were on the verge of actual death when we got here because of that - if the team had rescued us five minutes later, you probably wouldn’t have made it.”

“Now who’s making apologies for things that weren’t their fault?”

“Well, you seemed to be having fun with it, so I thought I’d join in.”

Oliver emits a quiet, amused sound and kisses her again, cupping her face gently. “What would I do without you?”

“Brood in a dark corner and pout all day, presumably,” Felicity snickers. “You know... you said you didn't know what kind of person you are.” She picks at a loose thread on his t-shirt, meeting his eyes seriously. “I think you should figure that out.”

He catches her hand and tightens his fingers around hers. “Only if you help me.”

“If you really think I’m leaving your side for a second, maybe I should get the doctor back in here to check for a concussion.” Oliver laughs, and ends up coughing again. Felicity hastily grabs the cup of ice chips and grins when he sticks his tongue out for her to drop them onto. When the archer continues to appear as if he’s in pain, but doesn’t touch his morphine pump, she rolls her eyes and ups his dosage for him. “Don’t be a dummy -”

“Listen to mommy?” he cuts in, looking immensely proud of himself for the rhyme.

Felicity groans. “Dammit, Oliver, you’re already such a dorky dad.”

“And what about it?”

“It’s insanely hot,” she murmurs, brushing her lips against his forehead. “I think the twins like it too… they’re parkouring up a storm in here.” She grabs his hand to place on her belly, and smiles at the look of wonder on his face when he feels them moving. Oliver must have felt them kicking and punching around inside her at least fifty times now, but he still reacts like it’s the first time, every time. “We’ve got two baby Green Arrows arriving into the world in just over a month. How crazy is that?”

“They’re probably delighted that their parents have finally got their heads out of their asses,” Oliver grins.

“Yes, they have been ever so patient.” A heavy kick lands on her diaphragm, making her jump and flinch at the same time. “Wow, you two, tone down that enthusiasm. Yes, mommy and daddy made up and kissed. They’re gonna take a shot at a romantic relationship again. Please don’t rupture my kidneys before I manage to get Dad into my bed again.” She immediately blushes, her cheeks reddening. “I mean -”

“Nothing excites me more than thinking about sharing a bed with you again,” Oliver interrupts softly. “But maybe we shouldn’t rush into this.” Felicity nods in understanding, although can’t deny that she’s a little disappointed. “Meaning that we should probably wait a week or two.”

“Oh thank god,” she groans. “Because I really need your fingers.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Oliver releases an incredulous cackle that has to hurt, but he doesn’t stop laughing.

“For back massages! And foot massages! Before sleeping! Not for - not for anything else!” Felicity frantically splutters, now certain she’s redder than a tomato. She did _sort of_ mean it in that way - god, masturbating is so difficult when eight months pregnant - but it slipped out unconsciously. She’s not going to let Oliver know that, though. “G-Get your mind out of the gutter, Oliver Queen! We have children present!”

“Our son and daughter are going to have to get used to your innuendos and Freudian slips sooner or later,” the archer teases.

Then there’s _that._ Felicity smirks, suddenly realizing she has the perfect information to shut him up and stop him from making fun of her. “Oh, Oliver. Before I forget to tell you… Dr Schwartz misgendered Mia. My four-page essay was right; it’s twin boys, not one of each gender. We’re having Tommy and Lucas now. Surprise!”

“Wait, _what!?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next week, we hit april: *rafiki voice* IT IS TIME
> 
> i would really, REALLY appreciate comments on this chapter. i worked harder on this than i worked on any of the other chapters, i think, because i really wanted to get the last scene right. so kudos, comments.... it would mean the world for me if you could spare half a minute to tell me what you thought xx


	10. April (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys. guys. you absolutely blew me away with the response to the last chapter. honestly, i was just... speechless. thank you so much for all of your continued support and appreciation. it means so much to me that you're enjoying the fic so much xx
> 
> here we are!!!! eight and a half months have flown by, chapter by chapter... and IT IS TIME!!!
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings** : Strong medical descriptions, medical terminology, medical related humor. Descriptions of going under anaesthetic, descriptions of a C-section. The ending to this chapter is a cliffhanger relating to the C-section.

Felicity ignores the painful cramping in her lower back to focus on the team’s various body cams, as they search the abandoned building that she and Curtis were able to track down HELIX’s base of operations to, after weeks of struggling. Team Arrow has teamed up with ARGUS to raid HELIX in an attempt to arrest Cayden James, and possibly arrest Prometheus as well. She’s back in the bunker with Evelyn to monitor the operation remotely, while Curtis is working as their on-site tech guy; it’s far too dangerous for Felicity to be out in the field considering she’s thirty-seven weeks pregnant now.

It’s April 15th, and she has a cesarean scheduled on April 24th, in nine days time. Much to her and Oliver’s relief, Dr Schwartz told them that it would be safe for her to give birth to the twins before May even starts, meaning that they’re less likely to be caught up in whatever disaster takes place. But seeing as how it’s looking as if they might shut down HELIX and capture Prometheus tonight, their worries were unnecessary. This May might be the safest one they’ll have in five years.

“Green Arrow, three o’clock, two HELIX members trying to escape through the emergency exit door,” Felicity reports lazily, alternating between watching Oliver and John’s body cams. Evelyn sits down beside her, having just arrived back from the fridge, and the blonde gratefully takes the strawberry milkshake and bag of peppermint chocolate candies the girl offers her. Both of them are wearing sweatpants and t-shirts, since they’re stuck in the bunker for the evening. Smirking when she sees Oliver take down the two runners with a single arrow, Felicity comments, “Nice one, honey.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Oliver replies, his voice rough but amused.

“Urgh, seriously? Can you tone it down with the pet names over comms?” Rene complains.

Dinah laughs. “You know the only reason they keep it up is because they love how much it annoys you.”

“It’s unprofessional!”

“I think it’s cute,” Rory says. “Overwatch, have you got eyes on Prometheus?”

“No appearances as of yet,” Evelyn replies for her, since Felicity has her mouth stuffed with the chocolate and can’t respond. “We’ll keep you updated.” The girl stares at the blonde with wide eyes when Felicity takes the lid off her milkshake and begins gulping it down. “Jeez, I hope you’re not lactose intolerant.”

“Harbinger thinks that Prometheus and James might have hacked our comms,” Oliver suddenly says, sounding annoyed. “Overwatch, Artemis, we’re gonna have to go dark, so we don’t give away our positions.

“Copy,” Felicity mumbles, around another mouthful of chocolate. “Stay safe out there, okay?”

“Ten-four. Mint chip?”

Felicity grins. Recently, mint chip has become their code phrase for the archer asking her to take it easy and not stress herself out too much. It started out as a silly thing when Felicity started crying over finishing the last pint of mint chip they had in the freezer, but now has become a little inside joke between them. “Mint chip,” she agrees.

Relations between Felicity and Oliver, ever since they were trapped in the bunker together and finally had The Talk, have been great. In fact, Felicity would even go as far to say they’re _spectacular_ , and that they’ve never been closer. Their friendship moved a step up into romantic relationship territory once again, and their bond is stronger than it ever was before, because this time, they’re building a relationship on the foundations of trust, honesty, hope, and love, with the twins turning that those iron linkages into titanium.

Although they did attempt to start out their ‘re-relationship’, as Evelyn has gleefully been calling it, rather slowly, as not to rush into it, Felicity and Oliver found themselves slipping back into old habits almost too easily. They started up their routine of good morning, good luck, greeting, and goodbye kisses only a day after Oliver is released from ARGUS medical, which is how they accidentally out themselves to the team and City Hall.

John is absolutely ecstatic, they can tell, and the rest of the team seems overjoyed by the development as well. Thea, Quentin, and Oliver’s assistant Sam wanted to throw them a ‘congrats on getting your heads out of your asses’ party, when they caught the two of them hanging out in Oliver’s office one day, Oliver massaging Felicity’s aching, swollen feet on his lap and then leaning in to press a delicate kiss to her lips when she began falling asleep. Thea claims that she knew this was inevitable; the two of them are soulmates.

Nothing else, except the dialed up physical affection, has really changed. Curtis said that it’s because the two of them were already acting like an old married couple. Felicity wanted to respond that they weren’t exactly like an old married couple, because they weren’t sharing a bed, but then six days into their re-relationship, Felicity was hot and bothered and extremely horny, and ended up demanding Oliver join her, otherwise she would cut off his Tommy and Lucas talking time privileges. The archer was only too eager; he retained a strict code of abstinence when it came to sex since their bunker one-night-stand. There isn’t much they can do, since Felicity’s giant baby belly makes it difficult for her to move - attempting any of their usual positions is impossible - but Oliver is more than happy to do other things than penetrative sex. If there’s one thing that Felicity has sorely missed about sex with Oliver, it’s that he likes to worship her body like a temple, and make her feel like a goddess.

“Hey.” Felicity startles when Evelyn snaps her fingers in front of the blonde’s face, with a knowing, disgusted look. “Please stop thinking about sex while you’re eating chocolate like that. It makes me uncomfortable.”

“You don’t know that I was,” Felicity argues.

The girl wrinkles her nose. “You get this glassy look and dreamy smile. It’s gross.”

Felicity starts to laugh, because both Thea and John have told her the same thing, but is interrupted by long, prolonged cramping sensations in her lower abdomen again. She winces and arches her back, hoping that it might take some of the pressure off and relieve the pain, but instead, it just makes it worse, dragging it out for a good ten seconds. She’s left winded and tired when the pain finally ends, and rubs her hands over her belly to try and soothe Lucas and Tommy, who began squirming around as soon as the cramps struck her.

Wheeling her chair closer with a concerned expression, Evelyn asks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” she huffs. “It’s just - you know, Braxton kicks.”

“That’s what you said yesterday,” the recruit says slowly.

“Yeah, because I had them yesterday as well.”

Evelyn stares at her and then shakes her head in disbelief. “Felicity… you’re in labor, aren’t you?”

“No, no, I am not,” she quickly replies, focusing on her keyboard and keeping her face angled towards the monitor screen, so Evelyn can’t see the red flush to her cheeks.

“Oh my god, you totally are, aren’t you? You’re in early labor. Your back is constantly aching. You’ve been having Braxton kicks for two days now, but they’re more like cramps - _contractions_ \- and they seem to be happening regularly every ten minutes. Why haven’t you said anything? Does Oliver know?”

“Oliver does _not_ know, and he will not know until he’s back home safe after this HELIX raid,” Felicity responds fiercely. Evelyn appears taken back when the blonde points at her forcefully. “Fine, yes, I think I’m in early labor. But don’t start going on about going to hospital, because I can’t leave Oliver alone while he’s in danger out in the field trying to catch Prometheus.”

Evelyn raises an eyebrow. “The rest of the team is with him.”

“Evelyn Sharp, do _not_ test me today!” Felicity warns, standing and rocking back on her heels when her heavy baby belly nearly makes her lose her balance. “Two huge Smoak-Queen babies are currently trying to vacate my uterus, I can’t take any drugs to help with the pain from these stupid contractions - I have very little patience!”

Seemingly shocked by the blonde’s outburst, Evelyn rolled her chair back a few inches, giving Felicity a wary look. “S-Shouldn’t you be getting to the hospital though? Shouldn’t your doctor at least know?”

Felicity sighs. Obviously, Evelyn isn’t going to let this go. “I called Dr Schwartz this morning in the bathroom while Oliver was cooking french toast. She said to only come into the hospital once my contractions are six minutes apart, or less. Considering they’ve been ten minutes apart for the last two days, I don’t think I’ll be heading over there anytime soon.” She glares down at her swollen stomach. “So much for my scheduled C-section. They’ll probably insist on me trying natural birth, which is going to be an absolute bitch considering Curtis reconfigured my microchip to be extra sensitive.”

“What about an epidural?” Evelyn suggests. Felicity pauses for a second in her typing, allowing the girl to come to her own conclusions, because she is absolutely terrified of losing all sensation in her legs again after the bunker fiasco, and doesn’t particularly want to explain that. Thankfully, however, the recruit rapidly realizes. “Oh. Right. But wouldn’t you have to have an epidural anyway, with a C-section?”

“They were going to knock me out under general anesthesia, because of the microchip and all of my spinal surgeries from last year,” Felicity explains. “Dr Schwartz said that there’s a risk with any regional anesthetic that the microchip might… well. The drugs might not work at all.”

At that point, both of them are distracted by John’s comm suddenly coming back online, with him telling them urgently that Oliver is in pursuit of Prometheus, and they need CCTV assistance. Felicity determinedly ignores her cramps and contractions that occur every ten minutes, wheeling back and forth the platform to guide the team, and Oliver, so they can keep up with the villain. Evelyn takes on the task of directing Lyla and her ARGUS team, so they can provide back-up if they need it.

There’s a horrible, fleeting moment where Oliver thinks he’s lost Prometheus, shouting desperately over comms, in need of assistance. Panicking, Felicity tries to squash down her stress and nausea to help him out, but all of the CCTV crashes for several seconds, cutting them off from the vital video they require to locate the villain. Curtis, who is on-site and has access to the building’s mainframe, is able to get it back up and running. Eventually, she’s able to track Prometheus down and send Oliver after him.

Felicity watches the archer’s body cam with hitched, shallow breaths and a clenching sensation in her chest as he fires an arrow into the back of Prometheus’ left calf, followed by an arrow into his right shoulder. It’s the shoulder arrow that finally causes the villain to stumble. Within less than a second, Oliver tackles Prometheus, kicking his legs out from under him and pinning to the ground triumphantly. With Rory and Dinah’s help, they disarm the villain of his various weapons, which isn’t particularly difficult, considering he’s unconscious. Lyla reads the guy his Miranda rights anyway, as she locks him into two pairs of handcuffs.

“Who is it?” Felicity asks grimly. “Take the mask off. I want to see who he is.”

Oliver hesitates and takes a step back. “I’m not…”

Maybe he’s unsure because he doesn’t want to know the identity of the anonymous villain who tortured him for a week. But Felicity needs to know. She needs and wants to know exactly who made her boyfriend suffer so much, who threatened her and their twins’ lives, who twisted them all up in an elaborate game of chess for his own sick amusement. “Oliver,” she says, not even bothering with code names anymore. “Take his mask off.”

Oliver kneels down and yanks Prometheus’ mask off, revealing his face.

It’s Sam.

Sam, Oliver’s personal assistant.

Felicity has to stagger to the bathroom with Evelyn’s support in order to throw up.

Evelyn holds back Felicity’s hair as she knees on the cold floor, one arm cradling her baby belly and the other bracing her against the toilet seat. She’s dazed and confused and most of all, _betrayed_. Sam was her and Oliver’s friend. He was a fantastic personal assistant who went above and beyond his job to help and support their family. He delivered food for Felicity to the Loft when she had cravings, made her hot cocoa when she was tired and hanging out at City Hall, and even brought Felicity a load of pregnancy-friendly snacks, toiletries and pamper items for Christmas, when he attended their holiday party with his family.

To think that was all an act and that Sam actually wanted her, Oliver and the twins dead the entire time… it’s like being stabbed in the heart. Sam kidnapped and tortured Oliver for a week, and during that time, comforted Felicity and pretended to feel sorry for her. He acted as if he wanted to help out Oliver and John with the Loft’s security and Felicity's personal safety, but probably just wanted inside information the whole time, to get closer to them so it would be easier to target her.

Remembering all of those times she was alone with Sam and he fussed over her, getting her drinks, food, and painkillers… Felicity throws up again. He could have poisoned her any one of those times, or drugged her so she would overdose, or just full-on attacked her. Sam has had literally hundreds of opportunities to harm her and the twins over the last nine months. The fact that he never did means that he was probably playing the long game. He batted her around like he was a cat playing with a mouse, getting her to trust him before pouncing.

“You okay?” Evelyn asks worriedly, rubbing her back.

“No,” she mumbles.

“That man… that’s Oliver’s assistant, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“You were… you were friends with him.”

“I _thought_ we were friends,” she whispers. “God, I - I trusted him. I trusted him with my life, with the twins’ lives. He was so kind and sweet and bouncy - like a _puppy_. I thought Prometheus, a psychopath who tortured Oliver for fun and has murdered dozens of people… was like a puppy.” She comes to a hasty realization. “Oh god, he _did_ try and kill me and the twins. When he trapped us in the bunker - he wanted us to run out of oxygen and die. And _Oliver and I went and had brunch with him_ , two days after he was released from ARGUS medical. He said he was glad we were okay! He was playing us like a damn fiddle!”

Now Evelyn looks ill as well. “That’s sadistic.”

Felicity flips her hair back, grunting. She’s finished throwing up - for now - but she’s beginning to feel like this bathroom is too small for both of them. “I’m just gonna… rinse my mouth out. Give me a minute alone?”

The girl appears uncertain, but nods and helps her back to her feet and over to the sink after flushing the toilet, passing her the glass that’s on the nearby counter. “I’ll be right outside, okay? I just gotta coordinate with Curtis and the rest of the team, find out what the plan is with incarcerating Prometheus.” She hesitates and then adds, “I can tell Oliver that you’re in early labor, if you’d like.”

“No thank you.”

“You need to tell him.”

“I will, when he gets back,” Felicity insists.

Another contraction hits her - it’s slow and drawn out, a deep, dull pain that makes her knees almost buckle beneath her. She leans her side against the counter and breathes through it, waving off Evelyn’s attempts at aiding her, because she actually finds her hovering claustrophobic. Considering everything Felicity had read in books and articles about childbirth, she would prefer for this early labor part to speed up; she reckons she can deal with the sharp, frequent contractions of active labor. These early cramps are horrible.

“I’m telling Oliver,” Evelyn decides. “He’ll kill me if he gets back and finds out that we deliberately didn’t inform him, and I’ll be the one he ends up mad at, not you. It’s impossible for him to get angry at you when you’re - like this. And I value my life, so I’m telling him. Sorry, Felicity. You might be scarier than him, but Oliver’s the person who’s more likely to inflict actual physical pain on me at the moment.”

“Wanna bet?” Felicity growls, using her arms to drag herself onto the toilet. Her knuckles are white from how tightly she’s holding her glass of water.

Evelyn leaves her, probably because she’s scared that the blonde might chuck the glass of water in her face. Her back aching horribly, Felicity splashes cold water on her face and goes to the toilet, hoping that by emptying her bladder, she might release some of the terrible pressure in her abdomen. What she sees in the bottom of the toilet pan makes a nervous lump form in her throat, however, and when she finally emerges from the bathroom, her ashen, anxious face immediately makes Evelyn approach her, asking what’s wrong.

“It’s disgusting,” she says. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Oliver said to report everything over comms. He’s on his way back already, by the way. Dinah, Rene, Curtis, and Rory are going with Lyla to take Prometheus to ARGUS. John’s driving Oliver because apparently, according to Rene, he started shaking as soon as I told him about you being in labor and can’t ride his bike.”

“You’re not reporting _this_ over comms.”

Evelyn sighs. “Fine. C’mon, tell me. It can’t be that bad.”

“Okay, well…” Felicity slowly makes her way up the platform steps one by one, wincing with each step and cradling her giant baby belly. She feels like a blue whale. “Um, I’ve been getting a lot of vaginal discharge this last week, which is a symptom of early labor, but, er, this is the first time that it’s… bloody. My mucus plug began coming out yesterday but I think… most of it just came out now.”

“What does that mean?” Evelyn asks, alarmed.

“Um. Usually, it signifies that the cervix is starting to properly dilate. My contractions are probably going to speed up. I… I should call Dr Schwartz,” she admits.

Felicity gets the doctor on the phone while they wait for Oliver and John to travel back to the bunker, telling her all her early labor symptoms. As soon as she mentions the mucus plug, Dr Schwartz informs her that she should get to the hospital as soon as she’s able to; since she’s carrying twins and has the microchip in her back, she’s at a much higher risk than a normal pregnancy. She deflates in relief when Dr Schwartz apologizes and says that it would be better for her to go straight in for a C-section under general anesthesia, rather than attempt a natural birth. Both the twins are large for their age, which would make natural births for them both difficult; she would most likely end up having an emergency cesarean for the second baby anyway, since that is what often happens when women give birth to twins. 

They’re on the phone together for a good ten minutes talking things over, and then Felicity hears the garage doors opening and the rev of the Arrow van’s engine, signifying Oliver and John’s return. She says goodbye to Dr Schwartz, promising to stay in contact via text until she gets to the hospital; the doctor tells her they’ll discuss the situation further when Felicity arrives and is assessed. 

She’s just placed her cell phone down on the monitor counter when Oliver flits over, his Green Arrow suit covered in dust, grime and in some places, dried blood. His eyes are stormy ocean blue with concern and he’s quick to abandon his bow on the floor to grasp her wrists and kneel in front of her in her chair, running his worried gaze up and down her. It’s as he’s about to speak that another contraction - this one much stronger than any of the others - lashes through her body. Oliver holds her hands through it, letting her squeeze her fingers until she’s sure she hears the fragile bones creaking.

“Evelyn wasn’t kidding when she said you’re in labor, huh,” he attempts to quip, but there’s a distinct scared tremor to his voice.

“It immediately got worse the moment you arrived,” Felicity huffs, breathing through the remnants of the contraction. “The twins want _out_ of my uterus. It’s moving day, and they have decided to eject themselves rather than hiring a van. Very unfair of them, considering it’s been a perfectly cozy home for them for eight and a half months.”

Oliver laughs, and then instantly looks guilty for it, as if finding things funny has suddenly become illegal, just because she’s in pain.

“You can laugh,” Felicity says, rolling her eyes. “My humor is gonna get worse and worse as my cervix dilates further and these giant-ass babies try and escape my body. You might as well be entertained by my shitty jokes now.”

Appearing beside Evelyn, the Arrow van keys dangling from his hand, John comments, “I think your jokes are funny.”

“Really? Huh. They’ll definitely get less funny as these twins hop onto the oxytocin train for their journey through the tunnel of vagina. Or, in my case, since I’ll be having a C-section, they jump aboard the fast-track flight to freedom via my abdomen.” Seeing the astounded looks everybody is giving her, Felicity grimaces. “Too much?”

“Little too graphic,” Evelyn replies, looking a little green.

Oliver leans in to kiss her gently, his hands falling onto her hips and then smoothing down the sides of her baby belly. His touch makes Felicity shiver; she’s still not quite back to getting used to these tender motions yet, despite thoroughly enjoying them. “Give me ten minutes to shower and get changed, and we’ll head straight for the hospital,” he murmurs huskily.

“With me driving, as this guy is pretending not to be a nervous wreck about the twins’ births but still probably can’t focus enough to function a vehicle,” John adds.

The two men take eight minutes, not ten, to hastily shower and get dressed into civilian clothing. Felicity times them both. It’s also because of this that she realizes that her contractions are getting closer and closer together - they’re seven minutes apart now, and accelerating. The pain is so blinding that the blonde can’t help but cry out, hunching over as far as possible with her swollen, extended stomach. Evelyn braces her through it, kneading her knuckles into Felicity’s lower back in hope of easing some of the cramping, but it doesn’t help all that much. Her cry brings Oliver stumbling out, half-hazardly buttoning up his blue shirt, with the fly of his jeans unzipped. His eyes are wild with fear, and apologies fly out of his mouth as he joins Evelyn in trying to comfort her.

“You’ve done your buttons up wrong,” Felicity gasps, when she’s finally able to scrounge up the energy to talk again.

Oliver glances down at himself, noting how there’s an extra undone button at the bottom of his shirt. He does his fly up, but doesn’t bother fixing his shirt. His hair is wet and dripping from the shower, but he doesn’t seem to care about that either. “It’s okay,” he says. “Getting you to the hospital is more important.”

“Dr Schwartz is going to laugh at you,” Felicity tells him.

The archer quirks an eyebrow. “You think?”

“Yeah. Because it’s hard for me not to laugh at you. Please fix your shirt. Or I’m gonna be hysterically laughing about it for the next hour. Lucas and Tommy have got me in a funny mood.”

John emerges from the bathroom, shrugging a sweater on top of his t-shirt. “Everybody ready to go?”

“I’m so ready to get these two out of me,” Felicity says excitedly, rubbing her bump fondly. Oliver jogs over to the couches, where they’ve been storing one of their three hospital bags. It has pajamas, a dressing gown, toiletries, snacks and some baby things Dr Schwartz advised they might want to bring. “My body will finally be my own. God, John, I’ll be able to reach my toes again. Oh, and I’ll be able to sleep on my front! Do you know how frustrating it is to have to sleep on your side with a house weighing on your spine? It’s agony!”

They take one of the non-descript black sedans they use for surveillance work, with Evelyn staying behind to coordinate with the rest of the team. Felicity finds it hilarious how they’ve ended up at exactly this point; her, Oliver and John, Original Team Arrow on the way to the hospital because Overwatch is having the Green Arrow’s twins, who Spartan is going to be godfather to. Her contractions become even more frequent, pushing the boundaries of occurring every six minutes now, which means she’s starting active labor. Felicity sits half in Oliver’s lap as he massages her lower back and places an instant hot compress there, hoping to help reduce the pain. She’s touched when he tells her about specific positions that allow for pelvic expansion and therefore decrease the pressure; the back of the sedan isn’t very spacious, but the archer is still able to make good use of the space they do have, guiding her into pelvic tilts and hip rotations.

“Oh god, oh god,” she whispers under her breath, after she’s recovered from her most recent contraction. She’s sweating and red-faced at this point.

Oliver looks tortured. He’s not the one in pain, but he’s upset that she is. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Just keep breathing deeply.”

“Easy for you to say!” she snaps. The pressure increases again, and Felicity can feel the blood draining from her face. “Oliver, I want to push.”

“No, you can’t,” he replies instantly, panicked. Oliver continues his thorough massage of her lower back, his thumbs working into her spine in divine spots. “Your cervix isn’t properly dilated yet. If you push now, you could cause swelling and we’ll just have more problems on our hands.”

Felicity groans, turning her face into the archer’s arm. “I think the fact that I’m in labor is problem enough.” She cracks at eye open, peering up at him curiously. “How do you know about the cervix swelling thing?”

“I read it in a book.”

“You read a book on how to deliver a baby?”

“Honestly? I thought that given our luck, we might end up delivering the twins ourselves in the bunker,” he says sheepishly. “I wanted to be prepared.”

Cramps hit her again, like steel cutting through her nerves. “How far away from the hospital are we?”

“We’re about ten minutes away,” John says apologetically, glancing back over his shoulder at them both. “Fifth and main is backed all the way up.”

“Grab my tablet for me,” Felicity grunts. “It’s in the hospital bag.”

“You put a tablet in there?” Oliver asks, sounding scandalized. “You weren’t planning to actually work while in labor, were you?”

“I thought I might try and finish off one of the coding projects I’m doing for fun. But just - tablet! Now! I can change all the traffic light signals to get us all green lights.”

“That won’t cause any accidents, will it?”

“It won’t cause _many_!”

“Felicity!”

“Hey, this -” Felicity waves down at herself, “ - is all _your_ fault, buddy! The least you can do is turn a blind eye to my very minor hack of the traffic lights mainframe.”

Oliver looks conflicted. “I don’t think -”

He cuts himself off and stares down at Felicity’s lap as a dark patch appears and spreads over the front of her sweatpants. The liquid doesn’t smell at all, but is slightly bloody, creating crimson smears on the fabric. Felicity sighs tiredly, feeling utterly disgusted at the warm, wet feeling as another painful contraction hits. Oliver combs the hair back from her face as she tries to curl up, groaning into the archer’s shoulder. She suspected that this was going to happen soon, but it’s much less dramatic than she expected.

“Did your waters just break?” Oliver asks.

“Yup,” Felicity responds shortly. “Can I hack the traffic lights now?”

Oliver swallows. “Yup.”

Once she’s changed the traffic lights all along their route to green ones, making sure that the streets remain safe at the same time, it only takes them five minutes to reach Star City General. John pulls the car into the parking lot opposite the ER for admissions, hopping out to go and grab a wheelchair, since Felicity will find it hard to walk with contractions wrecking her frame. He leaves Oliver to take her in, since he needs to find somewhere better to park the car, but promises he’ll be up as soon as he can.

Whispers immediately start up, spreading through the room, and people stare as Oliver hurries Felicity inside; it’s only natural for the mayor and his heavily pregnant girlfriend to be attracting attention. The blonde rubs her brow exhaustedly when she spots a couple of people sneaking their phones out for photos. The news about her being in labor will be breaking within the hour, she reckons. Dr Schwartz is apparently across the other side of the hospital in the anesthesiology department, arranging things for Felicity’s C-section, but the receptionist hurries them away from the crowds in the ER waiting room and passes them over to a nurse, who is happy to escort them upstairs to their usual private room.

Felicity changes into one of those flimsy horrible hospital gowns with Oliver’s help and gets settled in a chair, instead of up on the medical bed; it’s much more comfortable to be sitting rather than lying down during her contractions. The archer, who has been timing them, worriedly notes aloud that they haven’t sped up at all. At least they haven’t slowed down, though. At one point, just after a particularly horrible contraction that left her gritting a scream out through her teeth, Felicity has to go to the bathroom - cringing when she finds more discharge in her underwear - and when she emerges, she finds Oliver talking quietly on his cell phone, peering out the window.

He hangs up as soon as she reappears, smiling, but Felicity can see he’s still nervous about everything that’s going on because of the stress lines on his forehead. “Sorry. I was just updating Thea and Quentin on what’s happening. They’re going to hold down the fort for me at City Hall and keep checking in with the recruits and Lyla about…” Oliver stops talking abruptly.

“Are we not speaking about it then?” Felicity asks warily.

“About what?”

“Oh. So we’re not, then.”

“I don’t think there’s much to discuss.” Oliver frowns down at the floor, scuffing it with the toe of his shoe. “Sam is Prometheus. He played us like pieces on a chessboard, and killed people - some who looked like us - to create an environment of fear that he thrived off of.” His voice turns to a low snarl. “I had a murdering psychopath working as my personal assistant for a year. I let him get close to me, you and our family. How could I have been so _stupid and blind_ -”

“This is not on you,” Felicity interrupts firmly. “He fooled us all, Oliver. All that matters now is that Sam is in ARGUS custody and will never hurt anybody or be able to threaten our family again.”

Oliver nods, but seems distracted. “Thea’s going to enlist Adrian’s help in combing through his belongings and computer at City Hall. She’s worried he’ll have set up contingency plans to make things… difficult, for us, after we caught him.”

“Are you?”

“Am I worried?” he sighs, meeting her eyes. “Of course I am. That’s why I just agreed to Quentin sending extra security here for us, just in case. Sam was obsessed with targeting you, me and the twins. Attacking us while you’re in labor and vulnerable is something he would absolutely do.”

“He can’t have expected to be caught tonight,” Felicity points out. “Did he… say anything? When Lyla arrested him?”

“He was unconscious the entire time,” Oliver shrugs. “He didn’t get a chance to speak. Lyla says that we can interrogate him any time we like, though. She’s certain he’s got some kind of personal vendetta against me, and I’d like to know what I did to make him hate me enough to try and ruin my life.”

“You don’t know that you did anything. Sam might just be crazy.”

Oliver shakes his head. “Maybe, but his plan was calculated. He deliberately placed himself into that position as my personal assistant, and got close to the two of us on purpose. He allied with HELIX because he knew it would give him an advantage over tech, as he had to get past you to get to me. He’s scarily intelligent - smarter than he ever let on, in the office.” Pausing, he runs a hand over his face, looking exasperated. “You’re in labor. We shouldn’t be focusing on Prometheus, we should be focusing on you, Lucas and Tommy.”

“Oliver Queen, sprouting wisdom and the truth.” Both Oliver and Felicity glance towards the door when it swings open, revealing Dr Schwartz, who is shrugging on her white lab coat. “You’re right, Mr Queen. Miss Smoak and the twins are our top priorities at the moment. How’s my incredible patient doing? Contractions still six minutes apart?”

“Yep,” Felicity nods, eagerly clambering up onto the bed with the archer’s aid, his hands on her waist easing her up. “Let’s get these babies out of me.”

“You’re ready to not be pregnant anymore?” Dr Schwartz chuckles. She begins doing a pre-surgery examination, hooking the blonde up to a heart and blood pressure monitor. Lifting up Felicity’s shirt, she attaches a fetal monitor to her baby bump. “Yeah, a lot of women at this stage are tired of it.”

“I’ve been pregnant far too long,” she groans. “I know I’m technically early - I’m thirty-seven weeks - but it’s been such a long time. I feel like I’ve been pregnant for _forever_.”

“I’m just happy we finally get to meet these two in person,” Oliver says, smoothing his hand over the top of the bump, where there aren’t any leads.

Dr Schwartz finishes taking Felicity’s temperature and ducks down to check her cervix dilation. The blonde would be embarrassed, but Oliver can’t see from where he’s standing due to the angle. “Well, you’ll be pleased to hear that we’re all set up for the cesarean. The twins are doing well and you’re healthy, despite quite high blood pressure, so we can get started whenever you’re ready.” Her eyes flicker over to the archer. “Mr Queen can stay with you, of course, as you’re put under anesthesia, but then he and Mr Diggle will have to stand outside.”

“Why can’t I stand in the actual room?” Oliver immediately asks, his eyes narrowing.

Dr Schwartz stares at him for a moment, pursing her lips thoughtfully. “Fine,” she allows. “Just you, and you’ll have to scrub up to comply with aseptic techniques. I guess you’re going to want to cut the cords of both babies - but for the rest of the procedure, you have to stay out of the way.”

Oliver nods obediently. “I can do that.”

“Alright,” the doctor says. “I’ll go have one last conversation with the anesthetist, which should take about ten minutes, and then we’ll get going. A lovely nurse called George from maternity is going to come in here in a minute to talk to you, Felicity, about how you’re feeling, and give you the pre-surgery briefing. If your contractions get bad, don’t hesitate to ask him for gas and air. It’s better if you’re not in too much pain before we put you under, because your blood pressure can’t be any higher than it already is.”

Dr Schwartz ducks out of the hospital room and steps side to let John past her, the man rushing into the room out of breath. He frantically glances between Felicity on the hospital bed and Oliver, as if afraid he’s missed something vital happening. It makes Felicity laugh how he relaxes upon seeing her giant baby belly, but then she’s struck by a contraction again and chokes on her chuckle, as it transforms into a deep groan of pain. Oliver grasps her hand on one side, and John holds the other; both men pale considerably at how tight her grip becomes as she rides the waves of contractions.

It takes longer than ten minutes for Dr Schwartz to return. George, the sweet maternity nurse who fills out a chart for Felicity, asks her about how she’s feeling ( _pretty shit_ , is her response, because she’s mid-contraction when he poses the question) and offers gas and air during the cramps. At first, Oliver tries to suggest that Felicity not use it very much, since he reckons it can’t be good for the twins, but after the blonde suffers another horrible contraction that’s so utterly painful that she ends up screaming, he grabs the mask himself and thrusts it towards her face, as white as a sheet.

Seeing as how her contractions are starting to speed up again, five minutes apart now, George hurries out to update Dr Schwartz and get them some news on why there’s such a delay. It’s bad news. The anesthetist who is meant to be putting Felicity under for her cesarean has been dragged into another emergency operation, and won’t be available for another ten minutes at least. Oliver looks murderous and the nurse backs away nervously, but the archer is then distracted by Felicity hunching over and moaning into her pillow, trying to muffle the sound.

“You’re doing so great, sweetheart,” he whispers, perching on the edge of her bed and brushing sweat-dampened strands of hair from her face. “You’re so strong. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Felicity groans. “God, I’ll love you even more when these babies are out of me!”

That makes Oliver cough out a laugh, which quickly comes to a halt when Felicity writhes, whimpering. The entire lower half of her body feels like it’s on fire. The pain isn’t as bad as the pain she felt after the limo attack last year - but nothing will ever compare to that - but it’s still enough to exhaust her and make her wish that this ends soon. How some women fight through labor for twenty-four hours or longer completely amazes her - she’s barely been in active labor for two hours and she’s ready to be done.

Another couple of minutes pass, in which Felicity lies prostate, her hand grasping Oliver’s tightly, breathing in the gas and air as she recovers from the contractions’ aftershocks. John offers her a plastic cup of ice chips, which she gratefully accepts, but the chips do nothing to curb her thirst.

“You know what I’m really craving?” she pants. “A decaf caramel frappuccino made with frothed coconut milk, with whipped cream and Hershey's syrup and one of those chocolate curls on top. Do you think you could get me one of those, despite it being close to midnight?”

“Not allowed, sorry,” George the nurse apologizes. “The ice chips are all you can have at the moment.”

Annoyance sweeps over her. “Can I have _anything_?”

The nurse gives her an amiable smile. “Not when we know you’re going into surgery soon.”

Felicity whines, turning her face into Oliver’s arm. “I would kill for a cheeseburger right now.”

“I’ll buy you as many cheeseburgers as you want as soon as the twins are born,” the archer promises her softly. “You’re doing so well already, honey. I love you and I believe in you.”

And doesn’t that just make Felicity burst into tears. The maelstrom of fluctuating emotions barraging her right now because of her hormones being all wonky due to labor is making her very emotional about the littlest of things. Oliver’s face contorts into an expression of bafflement and guilt, upset that he’s distressed her, until George mouths at him that she’s fine. John flails uselessly and holds the ice chips cup for her as she wipes her tears away, cries dissolving into sniffles.

“You’ve only had one amniotic sac break so far,” George notes, when the contraction ends and he checks her again.

“Is that bad?” she asks immediately.

“It’s unusual,” he admits. “Usually the waters break before active labor starts. But I suppose one of your waters did break earlier on. We’re just waiting for the other one now. It would be better for the amniotic sacs to both be ruptured before your C-section.”

Oliver stares at him nervously. “What happens if her waters don’t break? Are you going to have to break them? With one of those giant needles they show in the educational videos?” He motions with his hands the length of the needle and Felicity gapes in shock and fright.

“Oliver,” John scolds in a quiet voice, glancing worriedly over at the blonde.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” George is quick to reassure. “They’ll just deal with it during the cesarean.”

It’s as Oliver is breathing out a sigh of relief and Felicity is about to whack him that another contraction hits. It’s by far the worst set of contractions so far, so agonizing that Felicity releases a strangled scream, her back arching. She thinks for a brief comment that the entire bottom half of her body is ripping in half - at least, that’s what it feels like to her. Oliver falls to his knees and braces his elbows on the side of the bed, wincing as Felicity cuts off all blood circulation to his hand. Swearing violently as the throbbing, ebbing pain intensifies, Felicity tries to twist onto her side, certain that curling up will help. Oliver hunches over her, rubbing her back with his spare hand, peering down at her with such a stupidly in-love, amazed look that it makes Felicity want to hug him forever.

But then determines that no, Oliver isn’t getting hugs anytime soon. She is in terrible, terrible pain right now because he knocked her up - it doesn’t matter to her right now that it was both their faults that their bunker sex wasn’t safe; it was his sperm that assaulted her eggs, after all.

“Marry me!” Oliver blurts out suddenly.

Felicity freezes and through her haze of pain, reckons she must be hallucinating. Did she just hear him right? Does Oliver really have the _fucking audacity_ to propose to her when she’s in active labor, mid-contraction? The hopeful, innocent expression on his face informs her that he does. “EXCUSE ME?” she screeches.

Now Oliver looks and sounds a little unsure and wary. “... Will you marry me?”

Staring at him in utter disbelief, Felicity starts hitting him, although is too weak and distracted by her pain to do it properly. “YOU DID THIS TO ME, you think my answer to that question is going to be yes when _two basketballs are trying to force their way out of my vagina_!?”

“Technically they’re not as big as basketballs,” he replies weakly.

She reaches out to grab the cup of ice chips from John’s hand, as the man is also staring at Oliver as if he’s grown a second head - and without any hesitation, throws the cup at the archer’s head. He deserves it, Felicity decides. He fucking proposed to her while she was - and still is - having a contraction. He stumbles away with wide eyes, looking taken back, with ice chips sticking to the front of his shirt and melted water dripping from his face. Felicity hates how he looks like an adorable drenched kicked puppy.

“Okay,” Oliver says warily. “That’s fair. That’s a very reasonable response.”

“Oh, you think!?” she wheezes, rolling over to her other side so she’s facing John.

“I was - er, I was just trying to get your second waters to break! Because, you know, the last time - your first waters broke when you got angry with me and I knew I’d have to shock you -”

“Oliver, stop,” John advises him. “You’re digging yourself deeper into your own grave, man.”

“Well, whether his spontaneous proposal had that intention or not… it worked,” George points out. Felicity grits her teeth and glances down at herself. A faint trickle of straw-colored liquid reveals that her second waters have finally broken. The nurse grabs a wad of paper towels to clean it up. “I’ll poke my head out and check with Dr Schwartz how things are coming along.”

“I’m gonna go refill this cup of ice chips,” John mutters, looking as if he’d love nothing more than to stay and witness whatever’s going to go down between Oliver and Felicity, but fighting his instincts, to instead give them privacy.

Oliver hesitantly returns to the edge of the bed so he can offer Felicity his hand again. Narrowing her eyes at him, she slips her fingers towards his and entwines them, copying his deep breathing to get her through the tail end of her contraction.

“I’m sorry,” she says, breaking the silence, once her pain has mostly ended, with the help of a good minute with the gas and air. “I shouldn’t have thrown that cup at you. That was mean.”

“It’s okay,” the archer smiles, kissing her palm. “I sort of deserved it.”

She nods, pulling Oliver’s arm towards her so she can curl around it, resting her cheek on his wrist. “Do you mean it?” she questions quietly. “Your proposal?”

“Do you want me to mean it?” Oliver eyes her cautiously.

“Oliver.”

He bites his lip before replying, “Yes.”

Felicity nods, allowing a beat to fall, before she turns towards him. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Oliver repeats. “Okay as in… okay, you know I meant it, or okay as in, you’ll marry me?”

“Don’t push it,” she growls.

“Understood,” he replies quickly.

“... ask me tomorrow.”

The archer blinks at her. “What?”

“Ask me again tomorrow, once the twins are with us.”

Oliver’s smile is brighter than the Sun itself. “Alright.”

Nothing much more is said between them, after that, as Dr Schwartz and the nurse come back in to say that everything - _finally_ \- is ready. Felicity is wheeled on the medical bed down the corridor to a lower floor surgery room, Oliver and John flanking her. Before they push her into the room itself, she sits up as well as she can despite the pain to embrace him. He wishes her good luck and reassures her that he’ll be outside, coordinating with the security officers Quentin is sending over the whole time, in order to protect her and the twins.

Dr Schwartz sits beside her, explaining how they’re going to send her to sleep. They’re going to inject the general anesthetic through an IV cannula in her hand; when she wakes up again, she’ll be in recovery back in her usual hospital room, with Oliver and the twins in bassinets, if they’re healthy and don’t need extra attention. They’ll be giving her some local anesthetic injections to her lower torso after the general, so hopefully she won’t be in pain when she does wake back up, but with the microchip making her nerves more sensitive, it’s possible she will still have some sensation down there. She’ll have to remain in hospital for three or four days after the C-section itself, maybe longer.

“Okay, we’re going to start putting you under,” the anesthetist says. “You know how this goes - you’re going to feel very heavy and drowsy, and it’s just like falling asleep. I’m not going to make you count down from ten if you don’t want to.”

“Much appreciated,” she jokes.

She’s a little tense, because every time she’s gone under general anesthesia her surgery has not gone particularly well; when she had her spinal surgeries last year, the aftermath was always disappointing. Oliver must be able to sense her apprehension, because he traces circles and figure eights tenderly over the top of her hand with his fingers, in motions he knows soothes her.

“Lucas and Tommy will be with us soon,” Oliver whispers into her ear, from his seat beside her. He looks ridiculous dressed up in blue scrubs with a hairnet on his head, but Felicity finds it endearing that he’s so willing to wear that stuff to be with her.

She hesitates, before saying in a wavering voice, “Oliver, if something goes wrong, if the twins make it and I somehow… don’t -”

“Hey,” he interrupts her firmly, raising her chin with his finger. “Don’t talk like that. All three of you are gonna be fine.

“But just in case I’m not -”

“ - Felicity.” He cups her face gently. “Everything is going to be _fine_.”

She acquiesces with a small nod, leaning up to kiss him sweetly before Oliver is forced to sit back, so the anesthetist can get to the cannula on her hand. Felicity licks her dry lips and lies back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling like her heart is racing, beating one hundred times a minute, despite the monitor beeping steadily.

“I love you,” is the last thing she hears Oliver say, before the sleepiness washes over her and grey spots begin to appear in her vision. “I love you so much. I’ll see you soon, honey. We’ll see you soon.”

Felicity tries to respond that she loves him too, but her tongue feels like a lump of jelly in her mouth, unresponsive. Her eyes slowly flutter shut as she’s dragged into the black. Her last thought is that she’s probably not going to be able to see Oliver hold his two sons for the first time, before the darkness overwhelms her.

When Felicity wakes up, it’s to a hard, bumpy surface beneath her, the sound of wind brushing through leaves above her and a startlingly bright light assaulting her eyelids. She has no awareness of any time passing and can barely remember actually going under general anesthetic, beyond her and Oliver’s last conversation, about everything being okay. Her lower half aches terribly, but it’s not the stabbing, sharp pain of contractions anymore - she recognizes the pain as a post-surgery one, the kind of pain she got from having a deep incision stitched up. Her eyes feel gritty, and her mouth is as dry as the Sahara desert.

Glancing down at herself with blurry vision, she sees that she’s been changed out of scrubs, into simple black pants and a white t-shirt, much to her bewilderment. The front of the t-shirt is stained crimson from fresh blood. Felicity reaches down with a shaky hand to lift the shirt up, and sees a huge cut across her lower belly, held together by stitches, with gauze still half-wrapped around it, but falling off. That’s confusing, because Dr Schwartz is usually very careful and thorough with her wound dressings.

She raises her eyes from her own body to up above her, where she sees trees swaying from a breeze. It’s not the distinct smell of antiseptic surrounding her, but instead an earthy, salty scent, like a forest beside an ocean. The sun is bright above her, the light partially blinding her. Felicity is definitely not in the hospital anymore. This definitely isn’t Heaven or whatever the afterlife is, either.

So where the _fuck_ is she?

“Felicity?” A figure appears above her. With some fierce blinking, she manages to get the person to focus. It’s John, with a large bleeding gash on his forehead, his eyes swimming with worry. That just confuses her even more. Were they attacked? Why is John hurt? “Can you hear me? Try and make a sound or move your arm if you can hear me.”

She releases a pitiful groan.

John sighs in relief. “Okay, that’s great. I was worried for a second there because you didn’t wake up at all during transit - I thought… Look, don’t try and sit up. Your wound has been jostled enough already and you’re not on any painkillers.”

Felicity manages to release a faint sound of acknowledgment, and tries shifting her body to relieve the pain. Her eyes widen and she peers down at herself. She can feel her legs, but they’re not responding at all. It’s like all of her muscles have been disconnected from the rest of her body. She has no idea what’s happening, and she’s _terrified_. John must sense her panic, because he grasps her hand, shushing her when she starts crying from fear.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he tries to calm her. “The - the chip’s been hacked. To stop you from using your legs at all. But all of your senses have been dialed up, which is why you’re in so much pain.”

“Why?” she chokes.

“I - I don’t know,” John replies, sounding defeated. “Just - try not to move, okay?”

Felicity nods, swallowing, but struggling to do so because of how dry her throat is. Eyes half-lidded, she frowns when she realizes that John is in handcuffs, and then peers around him to see that Thea and Quentin are also there, watching her concernedly, also in handcuffs. They’re in some sort of woods. There’s no sign of Oliver or the twins.

“Oliver,” she croaks questioningly. “Tommy. L-Lucas.”

John appears stricken. Felicity’s heart drops.

A chilling voice slices through the air like a razor, sending fearful tingles down her spine. “Miss Smoak, glad you’ve finally decided to join us.” Felicity stares up in utter bemusement as _Adrian Chase_ , in full black armor with swords and a black bow strapped to his back, appears in front of her, smirking down menacingly. Oh no. “Before you start to wonder… your boyfriend isn’t here. And your children are dead. Oh… and you got the wrong guy. Oliver’s pathetic little personal assistant isn’t Prometheus. I am.” He bares his teeth in a petrifying, psychopathic grin. “Welcome back to Purgatory.”

* * *

_To Be Continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... *pokes head out from behind protective boulder* sorry about the cliffhanger?
> 
> what did you think? i would really appreciate if you let me know in a comment. and left a kudos if you haven't already! my inner writer is always overjoyed by hearing your thoughts
> 
> meanwhile... i'm just going to remain behind this here lovely boulder until next week's update, although i'll probably post some missing scene oneshots in 'time falls away' to tide you guys over :)


	11. April (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again.... blown away by the level of response to the last chapter. even though mostly it was just you guys swearing at me angrily for that evil cliffhanger lol. still very happy you enjoyed it though!! i have emerged from behind my protective boulder to post this :)
> 
> [here's the WIP little wonders playlist some of you were asking about](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1YK7TAAAPPeuBM7OGWHHIa?si=ODduz8GISZWIUF8BgGwIOA)  
>  **Trigger Warnings** : Descriptions and discussion of torture, discussion of suicide, discussion of possible death and possible child death, descriptions and discussion of wounds and medical terminology.

Felicity is in too much pain to be able to process anything. She’s been kidnapped overnight out of hospital and transported to a deserted island in the North China Sea by a psychopath within hours of her C-section, without painkillers and a giant stitched up wound on her abdomen. And to make things even worse, that psychopath is Prometheus, who it turns out is actually Adrian Chase, and not Oliver’s personal assistant, who he must have set up to be arrested and put the team off his scent.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, the general anesthetic still affecting her body, Felicity tries to fight against Adrian as he picks her up in his arms roughly, but is too weak. Her legs hang limply, since the microimplant being hacked means she can’t use them at all, but still feel everything. Her feeble attempts to hit him make him laugh at her, as he marches her and the rest of the team through the Lian Yu forest. John, Thea, and Quentin are all handcuffed and chained together, so they can do nothing but follow helplessly, calling out worriedly when Adrian’s treatment of Felicity is too harsh, causing her to cry out as she’s jostled in his arms.

She blacks out again, and comes to in a bamboo cage, where she’s been half-hazardly discarded on a scratchy wool blanket. Her breathing shallow and head swimming, Felicity slowly turns her head, whimpering when she sees that they’ve all been separated out, with Thea in a cage next to her and, to her astonishment, Samantha Clayton in a cage on her other side. She peers around frantically for any sign of William, Samantha and Oliver’s son, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Judging by the way Samantha is screaming at Adrian desperately, the villain must have taken him somewhere else. John and Quentin are both gone too.

Catching sight of some henchmen in very familiar League of Assassins style garb, Felicity frowns in confusion; there’s no way Nyssa would be working with Adrian, and she can’t imagine Malcolm allying with him either, because he wouldn’t do anything to put Thea in danger. Are they finally going to get to meet Nyssa’s fabled sister, Talia Al Ghul?

The blonde begins fading again, black spots appearing in her vision and threatening to drag her down into darkness once again, but Thea gives a sharp piercing whistle that makes her flinch back into consciousness again.

“Felicity?” Thea tries to reach through the bars of her cage towards her, her face ashen with concern. “Come on, sis, you’ve got to stay awake and live through this, yeah? For Ollie and the twins.”

“Touching that you’re trying to comfort her, Miss Queen, but Miss Smoak will have nobody to go home to, if she gets out of this alive,” Adrian sneers. “Her precious children were slain mere moments after being born, and Oliver will very soon be dead as well, once he arrives here and challenges me.”

Felicity shakes her head. “Oliver was with the twins the whole time and he would never let anybody hurt them,” she whispers. “I know Tommy and Lucas are alive, and you’re just trying to scare me.” Her eyes flicker over to Thea. “Are any of the recruits here?”

“No, not that I know of,” Thea replies quietly, watching Adrian with a wary look.

“Then they’ll be able to back up Oliver when he comes to rescue us,” Felicity responds, her voice slightly slurred. “And they’ll be able to protect the twins. Evelyn sees herself as their big sister, she’s not going to let anything happen to them.”

Adrian laughs again. It’s a grating and cruel noise that makes Felicity want to curl up and disappear. “Unless, of course, Miss Sharp works for me, and has merely been infiltrating your team for the past year to earn your trust and play her part in the long game.”

Dread seizes Felicity for a moment as she lets herself entertain if that might be the case, but eventually, she realizes that Adrian is just trying to terrify her and is going to lie his ass off to do so. “Evelyn is like a daughter to me and she would never betray us. You’re a liar and a coward; I’m not going to believe anything you say.”

His lip curling with distaste, Adrian comments, “You know, Miss Smoak, I’ve been planning this chess game involving Oliver for a while now - you might even say, my entire life. And yet there was one factor I was never able to plan for - you. His proposal to you back in 2015 was unexpected, but then you broke up, and I thought that would be the end of it. Your _pregnancy_ is what really threw a wrench in the works. Oliver’s love for you runs deeper than his psychopathic tendencies that led to his murder spree in Star City when he returned from the island - and I could not have predicted that. _You_ are the real reason Oliver is this false hero that he portrays himself to be. _You_ are his most loyal follower, his most devoted supporter. He would be nothing without you. I didn’t realize that; that was and has been my only flaw. I underestimated you. I will not again.”

“You’re still going to lose,” Felicity replies weakly, her spine prickling with unease.

“We’ll see.”

“No, you are,” she insists. “You’ve tried to break Oliver before, but he recovered and just came back stronger. You tried to kill us both before, when you trapped us down in the bunker, but you failed then as well.”

Adrian laughs. “While I would have rejoiced at the two of you suffocating to death and your twins dying of hypoxia, I always knew you would escape that trap. All I needed was the two of you out of the way, so HELIX could break through those extra firewalls you put up and hack into the FBI to find Oliver’s son’s Witsec file.”

Felicity’s breath catches in her throat. She and Oliver never even considered something like that. They were so focused on the idea that Prometheus and HELIX were trying to kill them, that they completely neglected to consider the possibility that they were targeting somebody else while they were helpless.

“If you’ve hurt him -” Felicity says, her voice shaking.

“You’ll do nothing. Because you’re in here -” he taps the cage frame “- barely able to move because of the pain you’re in, and without the use of your legs because I hacked that precious microchip in your spine. I could do anything I want to that boy right now, and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.” Leaning in, Adrian adds sinisterly, “I could do anything to you.”

“Leave her alone, Adrian!” Thea shouts.

He ignores her, simply cocking his head with a sneer. “I was quite disappointed that I didn’t get to use my original plan concerning your pregnancy, Miss Smoak. You see, I didn’t anticipate the sheer scope of your stubbornness to wait for Oliver before heading to the hospital. I set up the distraction with his personal assistant to draw him and his entire team away, leaving you alone while you were in early labor. It was easy to learn that information when I had your doctor’s cell phone tapped. Miss Sharp was meant to convince you to go to Star City General, and it would have been all too easy to kidnap you then. Miss Sharp would have been taken out with a single bullet, and I would have had you in my clutches. It was too risky to attempt an abduction with Oliver and John Diggle with you, which is why I ended up abandoning that plan last minute.”

Felicity stares at Adrian in horror as he glances away with a mildly put-out look. “It would have been so entertaining, dropping you here on the island while in labor, without any medical assistance. I would have left a radio with you and one with Oliver, so he could hear your screams but be helpless to assist you. I hoped that one, or maybe both of your twins, if I was lucky, would have died. Christmas would have come early if you’d died as well, and Oliver would have been forced to listen to it all. That would have truly destroyed him.” He sighs. “Of course, the change in the series of events meant I had to alter things. This is nearly as, if not slightly less, amusing. Maybe when Oliver finally gets here, I’ll slit your throat in front of him. But that would be too quick… maybe I’ll just cut the stitches in your stomach instead, and tie him up so he watches you bleed to death over the course of a couple of hours.”

His voice becomes suddenly vicious, spit flying out his mouth as he snarls, “Then, once I’ve killed you, Oliver’s son, and all of his loved ones in front of him, I’ll bring him back to Star City with me so he can watch me kill his babies as well. By the time I’m finished, he’ll be begging me to seal the mercy blow. And I won’t. He’ll have to kill himself… and I’ll make sure that his suicide is as slow and excruciatingly painful as possible.”

“You’re sick,” Felicity chokes. “A demented, insane _psychopath_.”

Kneeling down, Adrian reaches through the cage bars to grasp her chin firmly. Flinching back, Felicity finds herself unable to look away, as he stares her down with wild, feral eyes. “I’d be careful what you say, Miss Smoak. You might be an indispensable part of my plan, but Ms Clayton is not. I’d keep your mouth shut if you want her to stay alive.”

He stalks away to go and have a discussion with some of his henchmen, leaving the blonde feeling chilled by his words. Still fighting to stay awake, Felicity casts her glance over to Samantha. The woman is sobbing silently to herself in her cage, wiping away her tears.

“He got William?” she asks dazedly.

“Yes,” Samantha whispers. “You’re - you’re Felicity, right? Oliver’s fiancee?”

“Not anymore,” Thea answers for her, but at the same time Felicity remembers Oliver’s spontaneous proposal in the hospital room and replies, “Sort of.” Thea shoots Felicity an incredulous look, which she just shrugs at.

“This man, he’s - he’s using us as bait, right? All of us and - and William. He wants to draw Oliver out. To fight him. To kill him,” Samantha says, her voice shaking. “Did I - did I hear him right? You and Oliver have children? Did he really kill your and Oliver’s babies?”

“No,” Felicity denies instantly. “He didn’t. There’s no chance - Oliver was in the surgery room and would have gone with them, wherever they were taken. Adrian wouldn’t have been able to hurt them.” She has to remain determined. She has to keep believing that Oliver, Tommy, and Lucas are okay. “Oliver will come, with back-up, and he will save us. We have five more team members back in Star City, and Oliver has allies.”

“Felicity.” She blinks tiredly over at Thea, who is now watching her with wide, anxious eyes. “Your face is… grey. And you’re bleeding again.”

She peers down at herself. The t-shirt Adrian dressed her again already has a sizeable dried bloodstain on it, and there’s now, wet, fresh blood starting to soak it. “Shit,” she groans, dropping her head back.

“Did he seriously kidnap you straight from your C-section?” Samantha asks, horrified.

“Yep,” she mumbles. “Woke up from the general anesthetic here on the island. I really hope Dr Schwartz and the rest of her medical team are okay. I hope he didn’t kill any of them.”

“You’ve got to be in so much pain!”

Felicity huffs out a small laugh, and even that is excruciating and sends fire spreading over her body. “Yeah, basically everything hurts right now. Especially since when he hacked the chip, he dialed my motor control down to zero, and senses all the way up to eleven. I’d kill for a morphine drip.”

“Oh, hey. By the way.” She squints at Thea, who gives her a wobbly smile. “Congrats on the twin boys. You said their names are Lucas and Tommy?”

Felicity almost forgot about that. She and Oliver never told anybody the genders of the babies - only Evelyn found out, and that wasn’t intentional - so everybody was waiting to hear. “Yeah, Thomas Robert and Lucas John. Smoak-Queen.” She swallows nervously. “Did - did John tell you anything when I was passed out earlier… about…”

“He didn’t get the chance to,” Thea says apologetically.

Felicity exhales with a tremor, and doesn’t even have the energy to lift her arm to wipe her welling tears away. “I didn’t even get to see them. I didn’t get to hold them.”

“You will. We’ll make sure you do.”

“If we get out of this alive,” she says, her voice hoarse.

“Felicity -”

She’s come to terms with her potential death at this point, but it still terrifies her. “I’m already bleeding pretty heavily, I don’t have access to any painkillers or antibiotics - Lian Yu isn’t the most sanitary of places. If Chase doesn’t kill me outright, I’ll die from blood loss, or septicemia, in a few days time. We have no idea how long it will take Oliver to get here, fight Chase and win, and rescue us. It might be too late for me already.”

“Maybe we can convince him to give you some drugs?” Samantha suggests.

“Chase wants us to suffer as much as possible, there’s no way he’d give her anything,” Thea shakes her head. “Felicity, we have to hope that Oliver will get here in time. You have two sons at home who _need_ you.”

“I know,” she whispers. “God, I hope Tommy and Lucas are okay… Thea, if I don’t make it back -”

“Stop,” Thea interrupted. “You’re going to make it back.” She shrugs off her jacket, stretching out so she can pass it over to Felicity, motioning to place it screwed up as a pillow under her head. “We’re gonna get through this. You’re gonna get to hold and kiss and cuddle with your and Oliver’s babies.”

Felicity nods, setting her head down tiredly, but can’t help but think that, as the darkness bleeds into her vision again, there’s a good chance that because of her deteriorating condition, she might never get to see her children, let alone hold or hug them. The most she can do as she curls up weakly in her cage is pray that Oliver arrives soon to save them - and doesn’t get killed by Chase in the process.

* * *

At some point, Felicity must have passed out again, because when she comes to, the intense brightness of the sun is blocked out by a looming shadow above her. Her vision strained, she feebly tries to push her attacker away with a weak cry, the motion creating ripples of pain from the stitched up wound on her abdomen. Her wrist is caught within a gentle hand, and maneuvered down slowly. Calloused fingertips brush against her cheek. The soft movements calm her, because there’s no way Chase would touch her like that - it has to be a friend. Her ears are buzzing with an irritating tinnitus sound, but Felicity pushes past her dizziness to reclaim her senses.

“There we go, sweetheart, come on,” she hears a quiet, encouraging voice call to her fuzzily. “That’s it, Felicity, wake up. Slowly, slowly. Don’t push yourself. Open those beautiful eyes of yours, honey.”

It’s Oliver. She whimpers in relief, tears immediately springing to her eyes. He’s hovering over her protectively, his blue eyes piercing with their worry and panic, but Felicity is just so happy to see them. Dressed in the Green Arrow suit, Oliver is already caked with mud after trekking through the island forest, and there’s dried blood on his forehead and cheek, from where he’s been nicked. He fought a battle to get here, evidently - and must have won, if he’d reached her.

“Oliver,” she whispers, curling her fingers into his hood.

“Hey,” he says with a shaky smile. “Hey, Felicity. Let’s get you out of there, okay?”

Very carefully, he gets his arms beneath her and begins lifting her out of the bamboo cage. Agony slices through Felicity’s lower half again but she muffles her scream in Oliver’s shoulder, knowing how alarmed he’ll get if he hears her. Other people - Thea? Samantha? The recruits? - flash in her vision, but she’s too nauseous to focus on them. One person she does instantly recognize, however, is Slade Wilson, as he spreads out a couple of blankets on the ground so Oliver can set her down on them. Felicity flinches from fear, squirming in Oliver’s arms to try and get away from him; Slade has caused her nothing but pain before, and she’s not willing to start trusting him now. Oliver must have let him out of the ARGUS prison near the beach to help him - why, considering how Slade has tried to kill him multiple times in the past, and actually killed his mother, Felicity has no idea.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Oliver soothes her, stroking his thumb down the side of her face. “It’s okay. Everybody here is an ally.” He peers over his shoulder. “Malcolm, Slade, back up a bit, will you? You’re freaking her out.”

Malcolm Merlyn is here too?!

“Nyssa, try and start tracking your sister. She’ll be with Chase, wherever he is. You can take Rene with you,” Oliver continues to order, over her head. “Everybody else just maintain a perimeter, patrol the area. Felicity is the priority here and we need to get her medically checked over.”

Dead leaves and woodland litter crunch and crackle near Felicity’s head, indicating people walking around her, and she jolts with each sharp snap of a twig. Oliver continues to hold her, the top half of her torso on his lap and her hand firmly grasped within his. Once Felicity is certain they’re alone, she tightens her grip on the archer’s hand until she knows it has to be painful, triggering him to meet her eyes.

“Tommy. Lucas,” she whispers fearfully, her voice cracking. “Are they…”

“The twins are fine,” he reassures. “Tommy was born first, 11:58pm on April 15th, and he’s five pounds, four ounces. Lucas was second, at one minute past midnight on April 16th, and he’s five pounds, seven ounces. Both of them had to be rushed to the NICU because they were doing so much parkour in your uterus because of my stupid Queen genes that they got each other’s umbilical cords wrapped around them, and were having difficulty breathing at first. I went with them, and they were both stabilized within the hour.”

“Chase said that he killed them,” she sobs.

“No, no, honey, our babies are perfectly fine, they’re healthy and happy,” Oliver smiles, raising her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. “Well, they’d be a lot happier with their mom by their side, but they’re gonna make do until we get you back to them, okay? They have their big sister Evelyn, Aunt Dinah, Uncle Curtis, and a dozen ARGUS agents watching over them in the hospital right now. And they’re keeping them in the NICU until we get back, with all of that extra security. They’re the most well-guarded babies in the world. Here, look -” He unzips his jacket hurriedly, pulling out a crisp photo, showing her. “See?”

Felicity begins crying again, but this time not from fright or anxiety - she’s utterly relieved. The photo is of both of the twins, who look absolutely tiny in a bassinet, curled up together in mint green baby onesies embroidered with their names. They’re beautiful; the most wonderful things Felicity has ever seen.

“They’re okay?” she sniffs.

“They’re okay,” Oliver promises. “Dr Schwartz is keeping an eye on them and Evelyn is texting me updates and photos every hour.” He starts checking her over with a mini med kit, being very gentle and trying not to jostle her too much. “You’re the one everybody is worried about. I swear to god, when I went to go and see you as soon as they told me Tommy and Lucas were okay, and found your recovery room empty… that surgery room destroyed, with the nurses dead… you and Dig gone… I lost it. I knew Prometheus had to be behind it. I confronted Sam in his ARGUS cell but - well, Lyla revealed that he’d been under the influence of scopolamine the entire time and didn’t remember a single thing.”

It takes a moment for the name of the drug to connect with the knowledge in Felicity's brain because of her dazedness. “Makes you highly susceptible to suggestion,” she murmurs.

“Yeah. Sam revealed Prometheus’ true identity to me. I found a USB with a video recording on Adrian’s desk at City Hall… he forced Quentin, Thea, John, and Samantha to read out a ransom note - not that there was any real ransom. He was standing over you unconscious.”

“How’d you work out we were here?” she asks confusedly.

“He was on a boat in the video. Lian Yu was visible in the background, through the fog.”

Felicity nods faintly and then questions quietly, “What did he say he wants, in the ransom note?”

“He wants to fight me to the death,” Oliver replies, his tone darkening. His eyes are almost black with his fury. “He said he would kill all of you if I didn’t show up. I guess he wants to kill me.”

Remembering what Adrian said to her earlier, Felicity shudders. “He doesn’t want to kill you. He wants you to suffer so much that you’ll kill yourself.”

“He wouldn’t have expected me to bring so many allies with me,” Oliver says, continuing to examine her medically, clipping a pulse oximeter to her finger before he lifts her shirt to check her wound. There isn’t much he can do out here in the field except clean it externally and place a bandage on it. “Nyssa has a bone to pick with her sister, Talia Al Ghul. Malcolm agreed to help as soon as I mentioned Thea in danger. Rene and Rory are here as back-up. And Slade -”

“Yeah, what the hell is he doing here? We are gonna talk about that, right?”

His lips tick up into a smile at the disdain in her voice towards their old enemy. “Yes, we will talk about that, but first we need to get you out of here and to safety, and I need to find the others. Where are John and Quentin?”

“Chase split us into two groups when we got here,” Thea says, suddenly appearing from the left and making Felicity jump. She kneels down to begin helping her brother to dress the blonde’s wound, while also holding her hand, squeezing to offer a semblance of comfort. “Technically three - he separated William from all of us. I don’t know if he’s keeping him with the boys now.”

“Dammit,” he mutters. Except Felicity doesn’t know whether he’s cursing because of the information his sister is giving him, or because of the results on the pulse oximeter he’s now peering down at. Oliver looks concerned, his face pale. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, Felicity. Your blood pressure and pulse are low, and so is your oxygen saturation. You have to be in a lot of pain.”

“So much pain,” she groans. “Stupid Chase and his hacking abilities.”

Oliver shoots her a puzzled look, so Thea quickly explains for her how the psychopath somehow managed to hack into her spinal microimplant settings to stop her from being able to move her legs, while increasing the pain she can feel. A thunderous expression crosses over his face and by the way his jaw tightens, Felicity can tell that Oliver has just decided that whatever he had planned for Adrian Chase isn’t enough to get payback.

“I think I can help with the pain,” he says tersely. “But there’s nothing we can do about the rest of it until we get you back to Curtis. Unless - can you reconfigure the chip if we get you a tablet?”

“I don’t think so. Curtis changed all the operating systems after that EMP blasted it last month,” Felicity sighs. “And HELIX must have placed a Trojan into the new code when Curtis was updating it from the bunker, so they’ve probably messed up all of the normal protocols as well.”

Oliver pulls out a small thin vial from the medkit, followed by a syringe. Muttering under his breath that Dr Schwartz gave him this to give to her if they found her, he prepares the drug, that Felicity reckons must be a painkiller of some kind, before injecting it into her belly, near the closed up C-section incision. Thea tries to keep her distracted by informing her about what happened while she was consciousness - not much, apparently, apart from Adrian leaving, and then Oliver and his team storming in, taking down the henchmen left to guard them. Thankfully, the blonde doesn’t feel it much because of how much that area of her body already hurts, but after half a minute, the pain begins fading away, with pleasant numbness sweeping in. She sighs in relief, her head lolling back onto the archer’s thigh. Although the numbness, paired with the fact that she can’t move her legs, is very similar to her paralysis, she can’t bring herself to care at the moment; God, it’s so amazing not to be feeling pain.

These actions attract another curious bystander. Felicity tenses up immediately and leans instinctively towards Oliver and Thea for protection, since she knows she’s so weak and vulnerable at the moment. Slade Wilson casts a calculating look at her, but there’s no crazy, insane glint to his eyes like there was when he held her hostage back in 2014. Instead, his gaze appears to soften when he glances over her. It’s strange, and makes Felicity eye him warily.

“She ain’t looking so hot, kid,” Slade rumbles. “Even with painkillers, she’s still not going to last long without a blood transfusion, IV and antibiotics. None of which we can give her while she’s here on the island, and we’re trying to track down Chase. We need to get her out of here.”

“I know that, Slade,” Oliver snaps at him. He turns his attention back to Felicity, asking her gently, “Are you gonna be okay if we move you?”

“I’ll probably pass out,” she admits.

“Yo, Hoss! We got a problem.” Rene jogs over, a grim expression on his face. Rory is close behind him, in all his raggedy glory. “Lyla just updated us on comms. Her ARGUS team managed to land the plane and get the emergency medical supplies off, but then out of nowhere an RPG wrecked it.”

“She’s called it for an evac chopper, but it won’t get here for another four hours,” Rory reports.

Felicity grimaces when the archer growls unhappily. “Did she say where they landed?”

“She said the Eastern shore.”

Oliver pulls out a map from a pocket on his pants, marking places on it. “Thea, you said that Adrian brought you in on a boat to a cove, with a sunken ship?” When his sister nods, he notes, “Okay, that’s not far from where Lyla is right now. Rene, I need you to give her the grid reference of the ship and the cove from this map, because there’s an old mercenary set-up nearby with shelter and fresh water.” He leans away, cupping his hands to his mouth to shout for Merlyn. When the man appears - Felicity cringes away - Oliver orders, “Malcolm, you’re going to take Thea, Felicity and Samantha to this location on the map. Rory’ll back you up. An ARGUS medical team will be waiting for you. Hopefully, we’ll have shut down the RPG site when the evacuation helicopter arrives; I want you to get on it, head to the mainland, and don’t come back. You protect the girls with your life, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Malcolm agrees, his mouth twisting in an amused smirk.

“No,” Felicity protests, grabbing hold of Oliver’s arm and tugging on it. “Oliver, I’m not leaving you.”

The archer exhales slowly, brushing her hair away from her face. “Felicity, you can’t walk,” he says gently. “You desperately need medical attention. And if I’m going to focus on taking down Chase, to ensure our family is safe from him, I need you somewhere away from the fight.”

“If we all split up, we’ll be doing exactly what Chase wants!” she protests.

“I’m not bringing you into a battle against Prometheus,” he replies, his voice stern. “It’s too dangerous, and Tommy and Lucas need at least one of their parents to survive this. If I don’t win against Chase, our sons are going to need you to look after them. So you are _not coming_.”

“Fine, then send me away with Samantha and Thea to Lyla and the medical team, but at least give me a tablet and a comms unit so I can help,” she fires back.

He looks uncertain, but then reluctantly gives in, pulling a spare comms unit out and fitting it into her ear. “Just in case something goes wrong.”

“You mean ‘when’, right?” Thea quips. “Rene said you brought my bow and quiver with you - I’m going to need it if Malcolm is going to be carrying Felicity. Talia Al Ghul brought a lot of her followers with her, and Rory’s not going to be able to handle them alone.”

“You sure you don’t want to send somebody else along with them for protection, kid?” Slade questions.

“We don’t need protection from the likes of you,” Felicity narrows her eyes.

Slade quirks an eyebrow, as if entertained. “I see you haven't lost your feistiness, Miss Smoak.”

“My stomach was sliced open not twelve hours ago to pull two babies out of me, and then I was promptly kidnapped by a psychopath who took away my ability to walk and tried to convince me that my children were dead,” she says flatly. “Trust me, Slade, you don’t want to cross me right now. I’m very, _very_ pissed off.”

“With your stubbornness, kid, and her courage and ferocity, those sproglets of yours are going to grow up to be wild spitfires,” Slade laughs.

“Those are the Smoak-Queen genes,” Thea shrugs.

Once Thea is equipped with a bow and quiver, Malcolm strides over to heave Felicity up into his arms. She glares at the man, thinking he’s going to make a snide comment about her weight, but is pleasantly surprised when instead, Malcolm gives her a respectful nod, asking if she’s comfortable. Oliver passes Felicity a mini-tablet with satellite imagery of the island and hands the paper map over to Rory, so they know where they’re heading. Felicity half listens to Malcolm and Thea arguing over which is the best way to get to the Eastern shore (Rory just stands by and watches them tiredly) while also paying attention to Oliver and Samantha, who are having a heated discussion on the other side of the clearing. She seems to be insisting that she go with them, but the archer is calmly explaining why it’s too dangerous.

Felicity understands Samantha’s unwillingness to leave - if it were Lucas or Tommy Chase was holding captive, instead of William, she would fight tooth and nail to be part of the rescue team. She’s still a little annoyed about being sent off with Thea and Malcolm, to be honest, because she knows that if she hadn’t recently given birth, she wasn’t wounded and her legs were working, Oliver would have her sticking to his side. There is, however, nothing she can do. Because of the hacked microchip, she can’t even walk, and has to be carried everywhere. She’s basically dead weight. It’s immensely irritating.

Nyssa emerges from the treeline, appearing like a ghost from the vegetation. “My sister and Chase headed deep into the forest, but I can track them.”

“They might lead us back to the rest of the hostages,” Slade nods. “Kid, we need to get going. We’re already losing daylight - you don’t want to fight this guy in the dark.”

“Okay, Nyssa, Rene, go on ahead. Slade and I will catch up.” Oliver glances back over at their separate little group. “Samantha, I promise I will rescue William and bring him back to you. Rory, Malcolm - once Thea, Felicity, and Samantha are safe with Lyla and her team, I might need you to come back us up, so stay on comms. Thea, you remember where all the traps I showed you are?”

“Pretty hard to forget, once I nearly walked into one and you got stabbed in the side saving me from it,” she scoffs.

“Good. If you end up being chased, try and lead your attackers into them.” He turns to Felicity, caressing her cheek and smiling softly when she drops her head into his palm. “Felicity…”

“Try not to die?” she says dryly, with a grin.

“Don’t joke about that,” he chides gently. “Please be careful, okay? Let Lyla’s medical team take care of you. We’ll get you back home so you can be with the twins in no time.”

Felicity gives him a pointed look. “And you too. You’re coming home with me.”

“Yes, right,” the archer agrees, but he sounds uncertain.

There is, of course, a chance that only one of them makes it out alive, and even a chance neither of them do. Chase is a maniac, and Felicity wouldn’t put it past him to set up contingencies in case his plan for Oliver on the island fails. That’s what makes her even more reluctant to leave Oliver’s side. Her eyes flicker over his face, taking in his tired yet agitated expression and weary smile. Leaning up, she presses her lips to his in a bruising kiss. The archer responds instantly, deepening the kiss so that the spark of heat between them erupts, encapsulating their entire bodies. Merlyn emits a quiet sound of disgust, being so close to the kiss since he’s carrying Felicity, but the blonde doesn’t care. Oliver lingers, following the kiss with another shorter and more desperate one, so that when Felicity eventually pulls away, her lips are left hot and tingling.

“What was that for?” Oliver whispers, stroking his thumb over her knuckles.

“Just in case,” she murmurs, leaning her forehead against his. His breath dances across her neck, causing goosebumps.

“We're going to make it through this.”

“You can't know that for sure.” Felicity shakes her head. She hangs onto Oliver’s arm when he makes to back away. “Oliver. I didn't want to regret not kissing you. When it comes to the two of us, I regret enough as it is. And I don’t want to regret not giving you the chance to ask again.”

The archer’s back straightens, his gaze growing serious. He knows precisely what she’s referring to: his spontaneous proposal in the middle of her labor yesterday. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that if you ask, right now, I’ll say yes.”

Oliver looks overwhelmed with emotion, tears shining in his eyes. “Felicity, I don’t want what could potentially be our last conversation to be you agreeing to marry me, when there’s a possibility we might not get that chance.” She nods, crestfallen. He lifts her chin, caressing her face tenderly. “Hey. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to propose. Every single bone in my body aches right now, knowing that you’d say yes if I did. But I want us both to be safe, okay? The last time I proposed to you, you were mid-contraction - and the time before that, we were attacked not ten minutes later, and you ended up nearly dying.”

“If you’re trying to imply that we’re cursed -”

“No, no,” he interrupts. “Just… unlucky. I don’t want to tempt fate, alright? I promise you, I am going to propose to you the moment that we are safe. We’ll talk about it more when we’re off the island.” He kisses her again, but this time it’s somewhat bittersweet. His expression tightens when he peers up at Malcolm. “If she gets so much as a single scratch -”

“I’m as good as dead,” Malcolm finishes for him, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry, Oliver, I’ll protect your future fiancée. Thanks for including me in that touching moment without my consent, by the way.”

Oliver huffs and glances over at his sister. “You have my full permission to kick his ass if he steps out of line.”

“Thanks,” Thea smirks. “Didn’t need your permission, but I appreciate it.”

“Good luck,” Rory tells him.

Felicity watches with a heavy heart as Oliver vanishes into the foliage with Nyssa, Rene, and Slade, hoping beyond all doubt that she gets to see him again soon, and they get to reunite with their sons. Samantha continues to fret to Rory that she wants to search for her child as well, but the recruit seems to be doing a good job at calming her down and rationalizing with her. Sighing, Felicity wraps an arm around Malcolm’s shoulder to brace her weight against him as he shifts her in his arms so she’s easier to carry.

“C’mon, let’s get going,” Thea says. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

* * *

They traverse the island quickly to get to the Eastern shore, where Lyla and her team of ARGUS medical agents have set up a small camp out of sight, on the edge of the beach.

Samantha argues with Thea the entire time that she’s not getting on any evacuation helicopter that comes unless William is by her side; the distraction causes Thea to step on a land mine, and Malcolm is about to take her place when Rory pipes up that his rags, embued with ancient magics, can withstand nuclear blasts, so can probably withstand a mine blast. The crisis averted, it only takes them about an hour to reach their destination. Samantha actually apologizes to Felicity during the journey for ordering Oliver to keep William a secret from her, and playing a part in causing that lack of trust between them that resulted in them breaking up. But Thea then starts teasing Felicity about Oliver’s semi-proposal back at the bamboo cages, and the blonde decides that interrogating Malcolm on his motives for helping them (he loves his daughter, it’s as simple as that, according to him) is better than trying to get Thea to lay off.

The shot of painkiller Oliver gave her earlier is beginning to wear off when they finally reach Lyla, but one of the medics is swift to give her another. Malcolm disappears as soon as Felicity is safely within their care, claiming to be heading back to help Oliver and the others. Felicity is glad to see the back of him, but knows that Thea feels weird regarding her father now that she knows that he was willing to die for her, with the land mine incident. Rory and Samantha vanish too, although that’s to a separate medical tent.

The doctor Lyla places in charge of her says that she’s extremely lucky not to be dead right now, considering how Adrian treated her. They need to redo the stitches on her stomach, as they’re partially torn, and she needs intravenous antibiotics on top of a tetanus shot. She also needs a blood transfusion, but they won’t be able to do that until they get her to the ARGUS Hong Kong medical facility, with better equipment. Felicity is reassured by the doctor that she’ll still be able to breastfeed, which is probably one of her lowest priorities at the moment. Once they’ve got her on an IV with some good painkillers and antibiotics, they get Felicity to lie back so they can clean up the incision on her stomach. The blonde stares up at the tent ceiling, clutching Lyla’s hand, with her brain spiraling with possibilities of what Oliver could be doing. Is he rescuing Quentin and John? Is he fighting Adrian? Is he struggling for his life, with that psychopath’s hands around his throat?

Things go to shit after that.

They get confirmation from Rene over comms that the RPG site has been taken down, and that they’ve found John and Quentin. The three of them are around fifteen minutes away on foot so are going to hurry over, on Oliver’s orders. Nyssa took down her sister, and Slade and Oliver managed to half-beat Adrian before the guy escaped, so they’re chasing after him, as they believe that he has William in a third location where he’s running to now.

It’s as Lyla is analyzing the area with the satellite imagery and scanning equipment for a good spot for the evacuation helicopter to land that she discovers that Chase has rigged the whole island with C4 to explode. Felicity takes a look at the code, and to her utter horror, realizes that it’s all linked to a deadman’s switch. If Adrian Chase dies, it detonates all of the devices - Lian Yu goes up in flames. He’s done this so that if he loses, if Oliver kills him… he kills them all alongside him. She frantically tries to alert Oliver to this over comms, but they’re down.

Slade is the one to finally come online. “Miss Smoak?” he says gruffly. “What’s happening?”

“Slade, are you with Oliver?” she asks, panicking.

“Kid just took off after Chase on his own,” he answers. “He’s going after his son.”

She explains the deadman’s switch to him. Slade promises to go after Oliver and inform him of the situation, but also warns that it might be too late. Oliver is after blood, because Adrian taunted him that he killed William and was going to kill the twins. He speaks to Lyla, at this point, advising her to evacuate everybody off the island - without them. Felicity instantly protests, and then realizes that’s why Slade addressed Lyla and not her. Slade knows that Felicity isn’t going to agree to that - there’s no way she’s going to agree to leave Oliver behind. Not even over her dead body.

“I’m sorry, Felicity,” Lyla says helplessly. “Slade’s right. We’ve got to get everybody off the island.”

“We can’t leave Oliver here!” she shouts.

“We’ve got to get you to safety - it’s what Oliver would want.”

“No!” Felicity yells. The doctor titters above her as she starts thrashing on the bed, trying to sit up despite having no control over her legs. “We’re not abandoning him! He has three kids who need him! I need him!”

They sedate her. Felicity doesn’t think she’s felt so betrayed in her life. She hasn’t felt this awful since the moment she called off her and Oliver’s engagement. She wakes up strapped to a medical gurney on the evacuation helicopter, John and Lyla beside her. It takes her less than a second of examining their haunted, horrified expressions to know that the worst has happened. Within seconds, she’s screaming at them both, demanding to know why they left Oliver behind, why they thought they could abandon him to die. Everybody comes over to try and calm her down, even Samantha, who looks like she’s been crying for the last hour, but nobody is able to get her to quieten down.

Eventually, her screaming fades into sobs. She cries quietly, overwhelmed with devastation and loss. There’s absolutely no way Oliver would have been able to survive Lian Yu exploding if he was on the ground. Thea just hugs her, crying softly too.

“We’re going to land on the Northern beach,” Lyla says dejectedly. “The wind is blowing the smoke down South, so it should be safe. We’ll wait until the fires are mostly out and then… send out a search party.”

_A recovery party_ , is what Lyla actually means. That boulder sitting in Felicity’s chest crushes her heart all over again, her entire world being slashed to pieces. A recovery party, because a search party implies that there are people alive to find. They’ll be looking for bodies.

But then… a miracle.

The helicopter lands on a stretch of flattened rocks on the Northern beach. The land beyond the sand is scorched black, the trees reduced to smoking stumps. Even the sand itself has darkened from the explosions. Felicity insists they wheel her stretcher out onto the rocks so she can take a look around, the very last kernels of hope still blazing in her heart.

Three figures emerge from the darkness, two of them taller than the third.

Felicity’s heart soars and she covers her mouth with a sob - this one of relief, rather than anguish. Oliver is striding towards her, his Green Arrow suit and face streaked with ash. Slade is on his left, limping but alive. And the last person… William. The twelve-year-old boy’s clothes are torn and black from cinders, but he looks healthy and unharmed. Samantha immediately cries out and shoves past the ARGUS agents to run to her son, lifting him up into her arms. William clings to her as they cry together. Oliver watches with a visibly fond smile, and then his eyes widen and a longing look passes over his face as he meets Felicity’s eyes. Slade hovers near them, nodding to Oliver that he should go ahead.

Oliver _sprints_ towards Felicity, and skids on the rocks as he approaches them. He has Felicity in his arms before she can take a breath, clutching her tightly to his chest. She embraces him back just as desperately, burying her head into his neck as she thanks whatever higher power is up there, God or any other deity that might exist, for bringing Oliver back to her. Oliver kisses her like a man searching for his lifeline, and Felicity is all too happy to be his anchor, tears running down her face; she wraps one arm around his neck, the other coming up around his back so that she had a firm hold of him - and she thinks she’s never going to let go.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she sobs.

Oliver kisses her again, this time so desperately that it was bruising, his hand tangling through her hair. “I thought I’d lost _you_ ,” he gasps. “God, Felicity - I was _terrified_.”

“Never do that to me again!” she pleads.

The archer doesn’t stop kissing her, cradling her hips against his. “I won’t. I’m never leaving your side from this point onwards. I’m glue, baby.”

_To have and to hold._

_From this day forward,_

_For better, for worse._

_To love and to cherish, til’ death do us part._

“Marry me,” she whispers into his lips.

“I thought you were going to let me ask,” he laughs.

“Oliver. Marry me. Please. I love you, and I can’t live without you. I believe that no matter what life throws at us, whether that be unexpected pregnancies, or villains like Adrian Chase, or - or the end of the freakin’ _world_... our love can conquer it. My biggest fear in life is losing you -”

“Felicity,” Oliver cuts her off, kissing her fiercely. When he pulls back for oxygen, he breathes, “Yes. It will always be yes.”

She breaks out into a brilliant smile. “Yeah?”

He grins back brightly. “You and the twins are the very best parts of me. Felicity, I'm a better human being just because I've loved you, and supporting you these last nine months as you went through our pregnancy, with you motivating me and inspiring me to be the best father I can possibly be - the best version of myself… it made me realize just how much I truly need and love you.” He tilts his head with a groan. “Now… can we please go home and celebrate our engagement with Tommy and Lucas?”

“And William,” Felicity adds, peering over his shoulder at Oliver’s oldest son, who is now standing a couple of meters away with Samantha, watching them curiously. “Have you told him about his two little brothers?” She hesitates. “Have you told him about me?”

If possible, Oliver’s smile only grows bigger. “Hey, Will!” he calls back. “Remember I told you about Felicity on our way here?”

The twelve-year-old glances up at his mom for permission, and when she nods, bounds forward like a gangly teenage puppy. It’s so obvious that he’s Oliver’s son; Felicity feels like she’s looking at a de-aged version of the archer, they look so alike. “Oliver said you like _Highlander_ ,” he says hesitantly.

She’s thrown for a second. “How did _Highlander_ come up in conversation?” she asks, incredulous.

“Oliver was trying to explain the deadman’s switch,” William answers. “And I figured it was like that time in that episode from the last season, where that guy was wearing a bomb vest that was wired to his heart rate, so it would go off if his heart stopped.”

Felicity glances over at Oliver sharply. “Chase is dead?” He nods simply. She returns her attention to William. “Yeah, that’s a great comparison, actually. You watch a lot of old TV shows like _Highlander_?”

“I like _Babylon 5_ and _Firefly_ ,” the twelve-year-old replies shyly.

She smiles and grasps his shoulder. “Oh, Will, I can tell we’re gonna be best friends already.”

“Oliver said that you’re nerdy like me,” William says, gaining confidence. “And that you’re proof that nerds are cool, and not lame.”

“Nerds are absolutely cool. We’re the smartest bunch around, and people with knowledge are the ones with all the power. We invent all of the useful stuff in the world. Don’t let anybody ever tell you nerds are lame. Nobody lame would ever be able to think of that water purifying powder with the dirt coagulant that you came up with for that ecology extra credit project. That could help the whole world, by providing clean water to the masses.” She immediately recognizes her mistake. Her mouth ran away with her a little there. “Oops.”

The boy narrows his eyes at her. “How do you know about that?”

“I’ve sort of been watching over you and your mom to make sure that you were safe,” she replies awkwardly. “I mean, it worked, up until the day Chase trapped your dad and me, and got the chance to break through my firewalls.”

“So you’re like my guardian angel?” William asked, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

“Felicity is everybody’s guardian angel,” Oliver answered for her, smiling fondly. “She’s Overwatch. The Green Arrow wouldn’t be able to be a hero without her. The Flash wouldn’t either. Felicity wrote most of the programs that the Flash and his team use to help stop and solve crimes in Central City, you know.”

“That’s awesome!”

“Yeah, she’s pretty great.” Wow, Oliver is turning full power heart-eyes on her. Felicity blushes.

“Are you going to be my step-mom?” William questions, looking unsure. “Because… Oliver said that he was going to propose to you. And if he’s my dad, then that means you’d be my step-mom. And I have two step-brothers?”

“Half-brothers,” Felicity corrects gently. “And yeah, Oliver and I are engaged, so I’ll be your step-mom. Is that okay?”

William nods. “Yeah, you seem pretty cool.”

“Hate to break up this sweet meet n’ greet, but we should probably get going,” Slade interrupts, stepping in from the side. “Oliver needs an X-Ray for his collarbone and Miss Smoak needs a blood transfusion.”

Felicity whips around to glare at Oliver.

He misinterprets it and responds, “I promised Slade an end to his sentence on Lian Yu if he helped me save William. He did, so we’re giving him a lift off the island, and then he’s going off to live his own quiet life.”

She whacks him in the arm, very gently. “No, you idiot! You hurt your collarbone? Hugging me earlier must have been painful!”

“But worth it,” he says honestly.

Felicity kisses him again for that, but then catches Oliver’s small wince as he shifts his right shoulder to lean down. Oh yeah, he’s definitely injured. “No more kisses for you until you get that collarbone looked at.” She props her chin on his left shoulder, which doesn’t seem to be affected, as he rests his forehead against her own. Catching Slade’s eye, she mouths ‘thank you’, because there’s no way the archer himself would have told her about his injury until later. Slade smirks and gives a short nod, helping Samantha and the William up into the helicopter.

Oliver receives a lot of relieved hugs once they’re all safety heading to the mainland on the chopper, and William gets introduced to the team. To Felicity’s amusement, the twelve-year-old seems utterly in awe to be meeting so many superheroes, and giddy to sit beside his father, who tugs him in for a side-hug when the boy takes a seat beside him. Lyla, ever the team leader, organizes a search party to recover Talia Al Ghul and her minions’ bodies, as well as Adrian’s body, so that they never have to see him again, even when dead. She makes arrangements for them all to avoid any waiting when they get to ARGUS’ Hong Kong branch; as soon as they arrive, Felicity and Oliver are rushed in for medical attention.

They refuse to be split up again, so Lyla has to convince the lead doctor to let them be treated in the same room. Felicity gets checked over again and has a blood transfusion while Oliver’s shoulder is prodded and poked. Fortunately, his collarbone is only cracked, not fractured. John gets seen to as well, since Adrian did something to fuck up his arm while dragging him across the island, and Quentin has a deep gash in his leg from a bullet graze. Everybody is banged up in some way or another except William, who is suffering from a major adrenalin crash and sleeping it off in the corner on Samantha’s shoulder.

They’re all given access to showers and ARGUS issue sweatpants and t-shirtsOnce Slade has been seen to, he takes the bag of meager supplies Lyla gives him and departs, exchanging burner phones with Oliver so that they can stay in touch if needed. Malcolm vanishes, and Nyssa offers Oliver and Felicity one last congratulations on the birth of their sons before disappearing as well, to mourn her sister who died in Lian Yu’s explosions.

The doctors want Felicity to stay at the facility for longer, but she argues that they need to get back to Star City stat, so she can be with her newborn sons. Lyla tries to convince her to rest overnight, as although she’s stabilized for the moment, she’s at risk of crashing again, but soon realizes that it’s a losing battle. She charters a private plane for them to fly back; it’s apparently easy to get hold of a plane itself, but less so to find a pilot in a short space of time. In the end, Oliver seems to sense Felicity’s desperation to get back to their babies, and offers to fly the plane himself. He hasn’t got a pilot’s license, but he’s flown multiple planes before without trouble.

Felicity sleeps through most of the twelve-hour flight back to the States, high on painkillers. An ambulance is waiting for them on the asphalt when the plane lands at ARGUS’ private airfield, and thanks to Oliver’s mayoral status, they get a police escort to Star City General. With the microchip still not working properly and the incision in Felicity’s stomach, the blonde has to concede to Dr Schwartz’ will and be brought up to their private room in a wheelchair. Oliver stays with her the whole time, his hand squeezing her shoulder, while the rest of the team follows behind. They must look like a very odd group to the rest of the hospital residents, especially since they’re all in matching clothes.

Evelyn is the first person they see as they approach the corridor where their private room lies at the end. She’s buying a soda from a vending machine in the corner, thumbing at her cell phone with a frown on her face. As soon as she sees Felicity and Oliver, she lights up, rushing towards them.

“I’m so glad you’re alright!” she gasps, hugging the blonde enthusiastically. “Chase - is he -”

“He’ll no longer be bothering us,” Oliver confirms, a twist of a triumphant smile on his face, but that quickly transforms into an expression of concern. “How are Lucas and Tommy?”

“They’re napping right now in your private room. Dr Schwartz brought them down from the NICU the moment she heard you were flying in. Curtis and Dinah are watching over them. They’ve been very fussy about drinking infant formula these last two days and have barely slept or stopped crying.” Evelyn certainly does look exhausted, like she’s been caring for two newborns. “We think they could sense that their parents weren’t with them.”

“They’re here now,” John says. “Thea and I are gonna take the others down to the cafeteria - everybody’s starving. Evelyn, do you want to get the others and we’ll give Oliver and Felicity some alone time with their sons?”

“That sounds amazing,” Evelyn replies. “We’ve been stuck eating nothing but turkey and cranberry sauce sandwiches from the vending machine.”

She collects Dinah and Curtis, who both greet and hug Felicity and Oliver in relief. Curtis, who has been updated on the microchip situation by Lyla, promises Felicity that he’ll get to work tomorrow on fixing up the implant’s software so that she can walk again - this time, they’ll make it virtually unhackable, with some of the blonde’s best firewalls protecting the code. As Dr Schwartz wheels her into their room, Felicity frantically glances around, covering her mouth with a shaking hand when she sees the one large bassinet in the corner.

“They’re very attached to one another,” the doctor whispers to her. “Started screaming their tiny lungs out if we tried to separate them. Let’s get you up on the bed and then you can hold them.”

“Okay,” she nods, trembling with anticipation.

Oliver lifts her up onto the medical bed, pulling the blankets back and settling them over her legs. It’s very inconvenient at this point to not be able to use them, since she has sensation in them - they’re cold and cramping - but can’t move them at all. He walks over to the bassinet with Dr Schwartz and Felicity inhales sharply in awe as she watches the archer gently lift a tiny baby in a soft blue onesie into his arms, cradling him gently. The baby is so little that he can easily hold him in one arm. Dr Schwartz is right behind him with an equally small infant. Felicity is amazed at how tiny they are. They felt like watermelons when they were inside her, and she thought they would come out huge. But instead, she thinks that she might be able to hold each one in a single hand.

Felicity doesn’t realize she’s crying until Oliver offers her a tissue. She’s never felt this overwhelmed with emotions before. She’s finally getting to meet and hold her sons for the first time. At the doctor’s quiet urging, she carefully shrugs off her t-shirt, being mindful of her stitched-up stomach, observing eagerly as Dr Schwartz and Oliver slowly unzip the onesies, leaving the twins in tiny diapers.

“Here you go, Mom,” Dr Schwartz says, laying the baby on her chest. He’s small and warm and smells like fresh cotton, and has the tiniest adorable tuft of blond hair on the top of his fragile head. “This is Lucas.”

Oliver takes a seat beside her in a chair by the bed, placing the other baby on the other side of her body. His little hair tuft is darker, a hazel brown that’s similar to Felicity’s natural hair color. He’s noticeably lighter in weight than Lucas. “And this is Tommy.”

Felicity stares down at the two babies in wonder. These are her sons. Lucas and Tommy Smoak-Queen. Her perfect, incredible little boys. They’re so small she could probably carry each of them in a single hand, especially because they’re curled up, as if they haven’t quite realized they’ve left the womb yet. She starts crying again, the tears flowing freely, because she’s just totally overcome with happiness and joy. This might be the most amazing day of her life. The twins fuss a bit on her chest for a couple of seconds, whimpering pitifully, but then seem to instantly relax - as if they recognize they’ve finally been reunited with their mother.

“Felicity?” She glances up at Oliver, sniffling. The two of them are alone in the room with their sons now, Dr Schwartz having left silently while she was focused on how magnificent their children are. He grins at her. “No more calling them potatoes, okay?”

She chokes out a laugh. “Well, they do both look very scrumptious.”

“And they smell _amazing_ ,” he chuckles.

Dipping her head down, she has to agree. Beneath the fresh cotton scent is that delightful new baby smell. “They do. They smell fantastic.”

“Yeah, for now, at least. We haven’t had to change their diapers yet. Evelyn said they’re like toxic waste bombs.”

Felicity wrinkles her nose at the thought, but nothing can spoil this euphoric moment she’s lost herself in. She’s peering down at the twins when she’s shocked at the sight of Lucas reaching out blindly with his hand, latching onto his brother’s own hand. Tommy squirms around until his side is pressed up against Lucas, releasing a small sigh of contentment.

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Oliver murmurs, stroking one finger down Tommy’s bare back.

“At least we don’t have to worry about them hating each other,” Felicity jokes.

“No, they already love each other.” The archer moves from his chair to perching on the edge of the bed so he can kiss the crown of the blonde’s head affectionately, with the softest, radiant expression on his face as he gazes down at his two youngest sons. “I love you so much,” he whispers, resting his cheek on her hair. “I feel so blessed to have you, Tommy and Lucas in my life… to have William, and John, and Evelyn, and the rest of the team as well.”

“I love you too,” she arches her head to kiss him. “Go on, go and get John and the others. They’re going to want to see the newest members of Team Arrow. Thea’s waited long enough to meet her nephews. And William’s gonna want to meet his little brothers.”

Oliver nods, sliding off the side of the bed. “Are you gonna be okay alone?”

“Lucas and Tommy are babies, Oliver, they’re not exactly threats.”

He spreads out a blanket over the three of them to make sure they stay warm before exiting the room. Felicity can see through the window that he’s not actually left - he’s just standing outside the door and calling the team on his cell phone. Felicity understands his hesitation to leave - the last time he left her alone, she was kidnapped, after all. She tilts her head back with a sigh, tired after the rollercoaster of events that have occurred over the last few days, but basking in the fact that she’s finally holding her two beautiful sons, who have finally been born after nine arduous months of pregnancy.

“Welcome to the world, Lucas and Tommy,” she whispers, resting her hands over their tiny bodies fondly. “It’s big, and scary, and dangerous, but Daddy and I are gonna protect and love you to the moon and back. We’ve waited so long to have you with us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for your support, I would really appreciate it if you left kudos and a comment on this chapter xx
> 
> there will be an instalment of time falls away tomorrow about oliver's POV of the twins being born!
> 
> **next week: it's may, which means it's oliver's birthday and the twins' one month birthdays... perfect time for a party :) then after that, we've got the epilogue!**


	12. May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so guys... here we are. the last chapter. (apart from the epilogue, but that's posting tomorrow)
> 
> i just have to say, thank you all SO much for being such wonderful readers. your incredible support and amazing comments on this fic, twitter, tumblr etc, have been so kind. i really appreciate every one of you who have show me support for this fic. i really enjoyed writing it and enjoyed posting it even more because of all of you. so honestly, THANK YOU.
> 
> thank you so much to the lovely and fantastically talented nelly, who made the covers.  
> thank you to sam, who has stuck with me throughout the entire summer and put up with my incessant questions and wondering about her opinions when it comes to certain things in the chapters - thank you for betaing and being such a great cheerleader.  
> thank you to calli who seriously cheerleaded me through this chapter, especially the start of it - i wouldn't have been able to do it without you xx
> 
>  **This chapter is rated E for sexual content at the beginning.** If you dislike smut then feel completely free to skip the scene :) _Trigger Warnings_ : Discussions and description of past trauma, gun violence and assaults.

Felicity is roused from her deep, peaceful slumber by a gentle kick to her calf. Blinking groggily, she shifts minutely in bed, squinting through the darkness. She relaxes instantly when she feels Oliver’s naked body pressed up against her, radiating a pleasant heat that’s been keeping her warm all night, despite the blankets being half kicked off her. During the night, the two of them have moved around from the original spooning position they fell asleep together in, so that Oliver is cradling her against him on his side so they can feel the rise and fall of each other’s chests, his chin tucked over the top of her head. Their legs are tangled together with the sheets knotted around them.

The blonde smiles dreamily, basking in the rays of the dawn sun that are cascading through the blinds of their bedroom. She tenderly strokes down the length of Oliver’s arm available to her, her thumb grazing over his numerous scars. His cracked collarbone has completely healed now. They’ve recovered from Chase’s assault. She’s happy. Unbelievably, unequivocally happy. She would remain in this position forever if she could.

The month since the twins’ births and the disaster of the showdown with Chase on Lian Yu has been spectacular. They were able to take Tommy and Lucas home a week after they returned to the States, and Felicity was cleared by Dr Schwartz after Curtis fixed her microchip and her C-section incision was healed well enough. Oliver took paternity leave from City Hall, placing Quentin and Thea in charge of the office, while John leads Team Arrow. It was a delight to bring the newborns into their nursery for the first time, to see them sleep in the crib that Oliver and Quentin built for them.

Every night, Felicity sits in the rocking chair in the corner, giving them their evening feed and then cradling Lucas and Tommy in her arms until they fall asleep. The archer is caught many times over curled up on the couch with his shirt off, both of the boys on his chest as he naps. They’ve got to know their sons very well; Tommy is a little troublemaker who often drags Lucas, the quiet and always content baby, into mischief. Although they have sleepless nights - Tommy always cries and then Lucas starts as well - their days are wonderful. They can’t bring themselves to be annoyed by their lack of sleep when their sons are so utterly adorable and sweet.

As if sensing that she’s awake, Oliver arches against Felicity in his sleep, exhaling cool air onto her cheeks as he leans his forehead against hers. Closing her eyes with a hum, Felicity continues to trail her fingers up and down the archer’s shoulders and side. A sudden playful urge comes over her. It’s her fiancé’s birthday today; he’s turning thirty-two years old. She should give him an appropriate wake-up call. Sitting up carefully, being cautious not to strain her half-healed scar from her C-section, Felicity vaults over Oliver’s torso and shuffles down until she’s straddling his thighs, her legs folded beneath her on either side of his hips. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she tugs the hairband off her wrist to tie it up.

Oliver’s already naked, which is perfect for her plans. He’s half-hard in his sleep. Biting her lip and keeping her gaze fixed on his lax face, she spits into her hand - she could get the lube out of their bedside drawer, but that would take too long - and takes a gentle hold of his dick.

Oliver stirs at the contact, his member twitching in her grasp. “Felicity?” he mumbles.

“Happy birthday, Mr Queen,” she grins.

She has him gasping and moaning out her name within half a minute. Giving Oliver a birthday handjob is all well and good, but Felicity really misses sex. She hasn’t had an orgasm in over a month now. She’s still healing from her C-section, and Dr Schwartz has advised that she not have sex for six weeks after her surgery. That means no penetrative sex, no oral sex - no fingering. _Nothing._ She can’t do anything that counts as excessive exercise, and that includes all forms of sex apparently, much to both her and Oliver’s dismay.

Oliver announced his irritation at this very loudly about a week after they got home, when Felicity pushed him away as he was about to eat her out. They have two weeks left of the no-sex rule - until they have their post-partum check-up - and it’s driving them insane. Oliver’s been insisting that he won’t masturbate or accept handjobs or blowjobs from her until they can both orgasm together, but Felicity reckons that he deserves a treat.

“Oh god, Felicity,” he groans.

“You enjoying this?” She quickens her strokes, laughing at the way his mouth hangs open in ecstasy. His hips are jumping beneath her legs, his cock fully hard now.

“Not - not really fair that I can’t - can’t return the favor,” he chokes out.

She swipes her thumb over the head, smug at the way he shudders. “Consider this your first birthday gift of the day. No return favor required.”

“The - the twins -”

“You’re really going to bring up our sons while I’m giving you a handjob?” She pulls away, snorting when he whines and his hips arch again. “Bad Oliver.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” he rushes out, his eyes wide.

She takes pity on him. And at the same time, decides _fuck it_. Because she can feel that she’s wet, ready and positively _aching_ for him, and it’s been so long since she’s had him inside her, and she just doesn’t give a crap anymore. Dr Schwartz can give her a three-hour lecture for breaking her rules if she wants. Taking hold of him again, Felicity raises herself above Oliver - and slowly slides down his cock until he’s seated deep within her. She and Oliver groan in pleasure at the same time. She feels so utterly full and it’s such a satisfying sensation. She can’t imagine what it feels like for her fiancé.

“Condom?” he breathes.

“Started taking the pill again last week. We’re covered,” she smirks. They don’t want another accidental pregnancy, after all. It would be ridiculously embarrassing for them if Felicity ended up pregnant again because they forgot to use condoms - exactly how she got pregnant last time, after bunker sex.

“Hasn’t - been six weeks since your surgery,” Oliver says weakly, but by the way he’s thrusting up gently, he apparently doesn’t care either.

She rolls her hips tentatively, wincing slightly when she feels her stomach sutures tug. “You’re really going to complain?”

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Trust that I know what I’m doing and where my limits are.”

He gazes up at her, his look one of complete devotion. “I trust you.”

Felicity’s heart soars. Bending over and ignoring the lashing of pain it causes through her abdomen, she kisses him gently in thanks. Oliver trusting her is all she’s ever wanted.

It isn’t as fast, rough and frantic as Felicity imagined their first round of sex after her giving birth to the twins would be, but it’s perfect anyway. They have to be slow and cautious to avoid her injuring her healing scar, but it actually just makes it hotter. Every brush of her pelvis against his is accentuated, every time he fills her makes that sensual heat burst to life within her, over and over again. Oliver always enjoyed it - and actually prefers it - when Felicity is on top, aroused by the fact that she has control over him, and in this instance, despite it being necessary so she avoids overextending himself, it’s even more exciting, because it’s the first time she’s ridden him since that night in the bunker.

Oliver has no trouble helping bring her to orgasm and he approaches his own, his hands which are settled supportively on her hips dipping down so that he thumbs at her clit with every small thrust of hers onto his cock. It’s a gradual process, but when Felicity reaches that high, her brain exploding with ecstasy, she clenches down on him. Pleasure washes over her like tidal waves that she rides for as long as possible, screaming silently with her eyes squeezes shut, fingers curled into Oliver’s arms. He shouts out his own release when he thrusts one last time, stilling. 

Felicity sits astride him for the next couple of minutes, feeling like she’s floating on a cloud as she enjoys the feeling of him going soft inside of her. She finally slides off him, reaching for tissues from their bedside table to clean them both off, before she curls up to the archer’s side, exhausted and elated.

“Happy birthday to me,” Oliver breathes, dazed and staring up at the ceiling.

Snuggled up to the archer, Felicity nuzzles into his chest with a satisfied hum. Oliver wraps her up in his arms possessively, one of his hands splayed out over her lower back. The blonde shivers when she feels him gently touch his fingertips to one of the larger scars knotting her skin. Her entire lower back is spiderwebbed with scars from the limo attack and the many surgeries she needed afterward, the cuts and slices that have since healed made by bullets, shrapnel, and scalpels.

Felicity knows that the scars don’t bother Oliver, although they used to, as he blamed himself for what happened to her. Now, he traces them every night, marveling over her ability to survive even the harshest of circumstances. Oliver’s own scars are badges of his past pain, and the courage he needed to fight past it - Felicity’s scars tell stories of her strength and long, arduous journey to heal from both her physical and emotional traumas.

Oliver’s hand trails from her back to her stomach, very carefully examining the area. Felicity already has a new, giant half-healed scar there from the C-section. This scar will inform all who see it that Felicity’s body, despite being damaged from past events, bore two beautiful children into the world, who will be loved and adored.

“You okay?” he murmurs worriedly, his lips brushing against her ear.

“S’tender, but not bad,” she replies, her voice quiet. The archer’s face contorts into a guilty, crestfallen expression. Felicity quickly kisses it away, not stopping until Oliver’s face is flushed and there’s no hint of his prior self-blame. “No regrets. I’d get the same strain if I moved too fast down the stairs. I’m fine. Now… cuddle with me.”

Oliver exhales into her neck, pulling her tighter into his embrace. The soft, contented rumble he emits is similar to a big cat’s purr. “That’s not a request I’m going to argue with.”

They barely get ten minutes to lounge and savor the afterglow before the twins start crying, their wails echoing through the Loft from the nursery. Felicity turns her face into her pillow to muffle her groan, but it tapers off into a sigh when she feels Oliver press tender kisses along the length of her spine, murmuring in her ear that he’s got it covered. She watches him with half-lidded eyes as he heaves himself out of bed, yanking on sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt before shuffling out of the room to go and deal with their cranky sons. Felicity forces herself to get up briefly, so she can pull on underwear and one of her old ratty maternity t-shirts, but then clambers straight back into bed, huddling under the blankets.

A minute later, Oliver returns with both of the infants cradled to his chest. He sits on the edge of the bed to pass Lucas to Felicity, shifting Tommy in his own arms. Swinging his legs up, Oliver lies down with the baby resting on his chest, rubbing his back to comfort him. Both the twins immediately stop crying the moment they catch sight of Felicity, sniffling. Lucas blinks up at his mother with alert blue eyes, his face scrunched up in a way that means he’s hungry and wants milk.

“Should we really be bringing Tommy and Lucas onto the bed we just had sex on?” Felicity mumbles tiredly.

“They’re not gonna know, or care,” Oliver sighs. “Besides, they need to go back to sleep, and we do as well. It’s five in the morning.”

Felicity huffs. Her body clock has been messed up recently, with all the waking up in the middle of the night to feed the fussy, hungry babies. She kind of feels guilty for waking Oliver up as well. “Sorry to wake you up so early,” she says.

“It was an excellent wake-up call, so I don’t mind,” the archer smirks at her. Tommy is coiled up into a little ball on his chest, basking in the heat his father’s body is radiating. He looks tiny compared to Oliver’s hand, which is patting his back gently. “We should try and get a couple more hours in, though. We have the twins’ one-month birthday party tonight and with the mix of people we’ve invited, we’re likely to be up til’ midnight entertaining.”

“It’s your birthday party too,” she reminds him, turning to kiss his shoulder. “C’mon, give Tommy here. I’ll need to feed them in an hour anyway; if they eat a little early, we can get an extra three hours in bed.”

“That sounds like a great plan.”

Felicity’s mastered dual feeding the twins now, so she gives Tommy and Lucas their breakfast before burping them gently and settling back down to rest. The boys fall asleep almost instantly, drowsy after their milk, and both Oliver and Felicity are close behind them.

Their alarm goes off at eight, as it usually does, and Felicity sets about getting dressed and then feeding her ever-hungry sons again while Oliver whips up breakfast for the two of them. A cheese and chive omelet is waiting for her on the table when she emerges from their bedroom, the infants propped on her chest. The archer swoops in to take them both so that Felicity gets the chance to eat. Lucas and Tommy lie happily in their playpen in the living room as Oliver serves them coffee and toast.

“Walter and Donna’s flights are arriving luckily at the same time, so John’s going to pick them both up at the airport for us at two pm,” Oliver reports, checking through his texts. “Thea and the recruits are on decorating duty and will be around at one. Quentin’s greeting the Waverider on the outskirts of the city to act as an Uber service for the Legends, Barry said that he and Team Flash will make their own way here to be on time for the party at five, which is unlikely. Samantha is bringing William over after she finishes work and his tutor leaves.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Looks like all we have to do is make ourselves presentable, start on dinner and tire the twins out so that they’re not fussy when being held by everybody later.”

“Well, you’re on dinner duty,” Felicity says, forking another piece of omelet into her mouth. “Although you don’t really have to do much, right?”

“No, I prepped the lasagnas in advance. I just have to put that in the oven and sort out the garlic bread.”

“Hmm. I might pump before lunch so that some of the others can feed the boys during the party.”

“William will definitely get a kick out of that,” Oliver smiles.

Felicity beams back at him. The relationship between Oliver and William since Lian Yu has been fantastic. Samantha admitted that she would prefer for them not to go back into witness protection, and instead move to Star City to be close to Team Arrow. After all, it wasn’t the FBI who had saved them from Adrian Chase in the end - it had been Oliver. With the team’s help, they found a nice two-bedroom apartment only three blocks down from the Loft, that Felicity could install top-of-the-line security in. Samantha worked in accountancy before, so Thea offered her temporary employment as a financial consultant for the City Hall housing commission so she could get some income and get back on her feet, before finding a new job. Samantha was hesitant about it at first, arguing that it was some form of nepotism, but quickly grew to enjoy the work.

William is delighted that he’s now living in the same city as his father, a real-life superhero, although he’s a little disappointed that he’ll be starting over again with a new school, and will need to make new friends. His mother decided that he didn’t need to go back to school before summer vacation started, and instead got him a private tutor to cover that content; Felicity helps as well with some of the science aspects of his education. With a co-parenting arrangement set up between Oliver and Samantha, William gets to spend half of the week with his father, on the days where his mom is at work all day and he doesn’t have tutoring. A lot of the time he hangs out in the Loft with them, enjoying playing with his little brothers.

William has fallen in love with Lucas and Tommy just as much as Felicity has, and she’s certain that the twelve-year-old would do anything for them. Sometimes, though, Oliver takes William out to play baseball in the park, or to learn archery at a local range. Samantha wasn’t sure initially about her son getting involved with archery, but William was ecstatic about it. He would be learning from an expert, after all. The boys have bonded a lot over their mutual love of sports, and William adores hearing stories about the Green Arrow’s heroics.

A knock on the front door startles Felicity from her thoughts. She rises to go and answer it, but Oliver waves her down, crossing the room in a couple of rapid strides.

“Hey!” Sam, Oliver’s personal assistant - well, his ex-personal assistant now - greets his old boss hesitantly. “Happy birthday. I brought those baguettes you asked for over.”

“Hey, Sam. Come in.”

Sam steps inside, but Felicity can see he’s a little on edge. Things have been a bit tense between Sam and Oliver since the whole falsely-accused-to-be-Prometheus incident, where Adrian drugged Sam with a compound that made him highly suggestible, dressing him us as Prometheus and getting him shot by Oliver before being taken into ARGUS custody. Things were cleared up by Lyla, who revealed the drugging, and Sam was released a day after they returned from Lian Yu. Oliver apologized profusely to him, but Sam is still nervous around him. Felicity reckons anybody who was shot with arrows twice by the archer would be scared of him, even if they were friends.

Although Sam resigned from his job at City Hall, he’s taken up a sort of helper’s role for Team Arrow. He’s been aiding everybody in balancing their day-to-day lives with their vigilante ones; he’s already helped Evelyn complete her college application, got Rene to contact social services about potentially taking back custody of his daughter, and arranged contact between Dinah and her old CCPD work colleagues. With Felicity and Oliver, Sam has been all too willing to act as a fetch-and-delivery service, since it’s a hassle to leave the Loft to go shopping with the twins so young.

“Do you want coffee?” Oliver asks, setting the five baguettes on the kitchen counter. “I just brewed some fresh.”

“That would be great, thanks,” Sam smiles.

Finishing off her breakfast, Felicity offers her seat to Sam as she takes her plate to the sink. “Thanks for all your help with the party. You and Thea have made it so we barely have to do anything.”

“You’re busy enough looking after your sons,” Sam shrugs, taking the coffee Oliver passes him gratefully. “It’s the least we can do. Look, I’m sorry - I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it to the actual party. Amy’s dance recital is tonight and Mark wants to go out for dinner after to celebrate -”

“Sam, you don’t have to feel bad for wanting to spend time with your husband and daughter,” Felicity says gently. “You’ve done so much for our family recently - it’s okay to focus on your own. We’ll miss you, but there will be other parties.”

Sam looks relieved. “Thanks, Felicity.” Peering behind him, he asks curiously, “How are the tykes doing, anyway?”

As if prompted by Sam’s question, one of the boys releases a sharp cry. The blonde can tell by the tone that it’s Tommy, making mischief. It’s not his hungry cry, diaper cry or tired cry - it’s his bored one. Oliver picks him up to pass him over to Felicity before fetching Lucas. Kicking out another chair at the table, Felicity sits and cuddles her fussy boy, humming in a way she knows calms him down.

“They’re okay,” she sighs. “Still waking up every three hours in the night hungry, and they still don’t like being separated, but they’re getting better.”

Sam offers to entertain the twins as they clean up around the Loft, not wanting to be called out by Thea for the place being a pigsty. Baby stuff is strewn around the living room like a bomb went off, and some major dusting needs to be done. They manage to tidy things up so they don’t look like they live in a constant mess by the time lunch comes around; Felicity pumps two bottles of milk for later and feeds the twins again, watching Oliver make sandwiches for the two of them and Sam. After eating with them, Sam takes his leave, promising to be available until four pm if they need any last-minute emergency favors. Felicity hugs him at the door and waves Lucas’ hand at him as he gets into the elevator.

Thea and the recruits arrive swiftly after that, with boxes of decorations in their arms. They drop them down on the kitchen table after wishing Oliver a happy birthday, piling their gifts for him and the twins in the corner. Evelyn and Rory immediately weasel out of decorating duties by taking the twins up to the nursery to play with them and then put them down for their naps.

While Thea, Dinah, Curtis, and Rene start on hanging up garlands and arranging flower vases, Oliver and Felicity retire to their bedroom to shower and change into fancier clothes. They’re parents to two newborns, yes, and could probably get away with showing up to their party in pajamas since they’re hosting it, but they want to at least try and look like organized adults who are not sleep deprived or exhausted by said two newborns.

Felicity is combing her fingers through her semi-wet hair, naked except for the towel wrapped around her, when Oliver emerges from their walk-in closet in a navy blue suit, looking startlingly handsome. She stares at him, swallowing. Running her gaze up and down her fiancé, Felicity wonders briefly if a quickie is on the table, because damn, he looks hot.

Oliver must be able to tell what she’s thinking by the expression on her face, because he warns, “Don’t you dare try and start anything. I allowed this morning because we could take it slow and make sure you weren’t hurt. But we’re technically still not allowed to have sex for another two weeks.”

She snakes her hands around his waist. “Who’s going to know?” she purrs.

“I will,” he replies, rolling his eyes. “And Dr Schwartz will know as soon as we lie to her.”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure I can convince her we didn’t do anything naughty.” Felicity drops her towel.

Oliver raises his eyes to the ceiling to avoid looking at her, but the blonde grins triumphantly when she spots his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he gulps. There’s a noticeable tent forming in his pants. “Jesus, Felicity. My sister and the rest of our adopted adult children are right outside that door. Stop tempting me.”

“Oh, so you’re tempted?”

“God, you’re a vixen,” he growls under his breath. Bending over, Oliver grasps her dropped towel and hands it back to her. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Yeah?”

Now Oliver looks at her, his eyes dark with arousal. His gaze remains above her shoulders in a show of pure control. “We’ve proven that orgasms are okay for you if we’re careful… I think it’ll be alright if I enjoy some dessert tonight.”

It’s almost impossible for Felicity to concentrate on drying her hair after that, but the archer helps her by brushing it for her, dancing his fingertips down her spine. She wants to complain that he’s really not helping her stop feeling aroused, but also revels at his touch, so bites her tongue and basks in the attention. Picking a dress is a problem, because she can’t wear anything too tight around her abdomen; she ends up deciding on a short orange brocade dress. 

Oliver does the zipper up for her in a long, sensual motion that has her shivering. “God, you’re stunning,” he whispers, kissing her delicately behind her ear. “So beautiful.”

“You like the dress?” she murmurs.

“Love it.” His lips rest against the exposed column of her neck for a moment, making Felicity's eyes flutter shut. “Love the woman wearing it even more.”

“Now who’s tempting who?” she breathes.

The archer chuckles, stepping away. He heads into the bathroom. She’s styling her hair into a bun and loose curls when there’s a tap on the door.

Evelyn pokes her head around the frame, smiling. “Hi.”

“Hi! Everything okay?”

“Yeah, the twins are asleep.” She moves to take a step inside, but then pauses. “Is Oliver decent?”

“He’s in the bathroom doing his hair,” Felicity laughs. “You’re safe.”

“Cool.” Evelyn slides up to her, and without Felicity even needing to ask, the girl takes the curling iron from her and begins helping out. “Thea’s nearly finished decorating. Rene and Curtis have been tasked with collecting the birthday cake.”

Oliver’s interested voice called out, “Birthday cake?”

“Don’t worry, Oliver, we got you your own healthy option,” Evelyn shouts back. “It’s carrot and buckwheat.” She winks at Felicity when she laughs. “Everything’s going to plan.”

“Let’s hope it continues to,” she mutters. With her and Oliver, things always tend to go awry, with problems popping up unexpectedly.

“Are you nervous?” Evelyn asks.

“About what?”

The recruit leans over her shoulder to tap at her left hand’s ring finger. It’s bare at the moment - she and Oliver agreed that she wouldn’t put her engagement ring on until after all the press concerning the twins being born has died down, as they don’t want even more heightened coverage of their family.

Felicity wishes she could wear it all the time. It’s beautiful; Oliver decided to buy her a new one, rather than gift her with Moira’s heirloom. He was worried that since their last engagement involving that ring was broken off, he might tempt fate and bad luck. The archer bought her new ring specially; it’s white gold with a central diamond flanked by two incredible pear-shaped emeralds. Oliver didn’t say it, but she knows that the two emeralds are meant to represent the twins, and the diamond represents her - the archer’s light in the darkness. Felicity is amazed at how well he knows her, because she adores it.

Tonight at the party, they’ll be telling everybody about their engagement who doesn’t know: Donna, Walter, Team Flash, Team Legends… everyone.

Despite having done this all before - although no actual engagement announcement was needed, since Oliver proposed to her in public - it’s rather daunting for Felicity to do this all over again. She’s delighted that she and Oliver are going to be married, but they’re not rushing into it. They haven’t decided when precisely the wedding is going to be, but Oliver has expressed that he would like the twins to be able to walk, so they can walk down the aisle with them. That means that they’re going to be engaged, with no wedding, for over a year. Felicity is fine with that. She’s more than happy with that. She reckons her mother might have something to say about it though; Donna is quite impatient when it comes to these sort of things, and she’s going to want to be heavily involved in the planning, like she was last time.

“Ah. Right.” Felicity frowns down at her hand, flexing it.

Evelyn emits a confused noise. “Why are you not excited?”

“Just a little worried that we might be pressured tonight to speed up the date of the wedding,” she admits. “Which… has not been set yet.”

“Tell everybody you want Tommy and Lucas as page boys and they’ll be too busy imagining them in adorable little tuxes to harass you about when the wedding is,” Evelyn suggests, sliding pins into her hair. “And if you need to be rescued, start walking over to the stairs. I’ll take it as a signal to spill my drink and cause a scene you need to clean up.”

“What what I do without you, Evelyn?”

“I dunno, I think you’d need to find a new babysitter.”

Felicity laughs, and then loses herself in her musings again, as the recruit continues pinning up the blonde’s bun. Remembering how Adrian tried to convince her that Evelyn was evil and working with him on the island, she says quietly, “Evelyn, you know Oliver and I care about you, right?”

“Oliver jokes that I’m your adopted daughter, so I’d be kind of surprised if you didn’t,” she replies with a snort.

“We do. We really do,” Felicity responds, her voice sincere. “Did you know that Chase tried to convince me on the island that you were working with him?”

Evelyn freezes. She stares at Felicity with an ashen face. Felicity knew when Adrian told her that the recruit was his ally that he was lying, but she wonders whether or not she was actually tempted, at one point. After a tense beat of silence, Evelyn says quietly, “I didn’t know Adrian Chase was Prometheus, I swear. But Prometheus _did_ approach me back in November and try to convince me to join him. I wanted nothing to do with him. I promise, I didn’t betray you and Oliver. I wouldn’t do that. You two and the rest of the team… you’re my family. The twins are my family. I would die for any of you, you know that, right?”

“Yes, I know,” Felicity replies with a gentle smile. “I didn’t believe Chase for a second when he lied to me. And you didn’t have to come clean just now about him trying to tempt you, but you did. I trust you, Evelyn. And I know Oliver and I _joke_ about it, but we seriously do think and care about you as one of our kids. Not just our trainee, or our charge, somebody we have to be responsible for… you’re like a daughter to us. I know you’re seventeen and nearly an adult now, legally, but we would actually adopt you if you wanted us to.”

Evelyn goes silent. Her hands stop moving in Felicity’s hair.

“Evelyn?”

“You seriously mean that?” she whispers.

“Of course I do. You’re already like a big sister to the twins and William thinks you’re cool, and looks up to you. Oliver’s got all the necessary paperwork downstairs if you’d like to make it official. We’ve been considering asking you for a while now. But it’s totally up to you. Your decision. We don’t have to make a big thing of it - it’s just some documents all three of us need to sign, and then we can pass things over to Jean Loring and she’ll sort out -”

Evelyn attacks her with a hug from behind. She’s careful not to jostle Felicity too much, but her embrace is still tight. She buries her face in Felicity’s shoulder, muffling her quiet tears. “Thank you,” she hears the girl mumble, her voice choked with emotion. “Thank you for believing in me… when nobody else would.” She rushes into the bathroom to hug Oliver as well.

“How about you come over for lunch tomorrow so we can talk about it more?” Felicity asks, when Evelyn emerges from the bathroom frantically trying to wipe her tears away.

“I’d like that,” the girl nods.

The afternoon goes on without a hitch. John drops off Donna and Walter at the Loft after helping them check into their hotels. The man is still in rehab for his injured arm, but has been healing well, and Felicity is happy to see that he has almost a full range of movement in it now. To nobody’s surprise, Donna bursts into tears as soon as she sees Oliver and Felicity holding the twins. Showering them all with love, she exclaims while crying how overjoyed she is that the two of them are back together and have their own family.

She continues sobbing incoherently when Tommy is placed in her arms, blabbering about how amazing it is to finally meet her grandchildren, to finally be a grandmother. Tommy seems very panicked at first being fussed over, but eventually calms down, content to cuddle with his grandma as long as he can keep Felicity in his sightline.

Walter becomes instantly enamored by the twins. He hasn’t seen Oliver and Felicity in years, as being based in London means that it’s hard to keep up with them. He and Thea have exchanged calls every so often, but he hasn’t visited the States since 2014. Lucas lies quietly against the man’s chest as the three of them catch up, Walter being enthralled by Oliver’s mayoral work and also Felicity’s plans to start her own company in the future. He has brought an extravagant gift for the twins, just as they predicted he might: a gift basket that’s half the size of their bed, filled with soft cashmere clothes and blankets, and hand-knitted cuddly toys. At one point, Felicity freaks out because Walter mentions a pony, but then he reassures them that he’s only joking (although she sees him on his cell phone later on, telling somebody to cancel stable arrangements).

“Your mother would be so proud of you, Oliver,” Felicity overhears the Brit saying to the archer, as Oliver teaches him how to hold Lucas on top of his knees. She catches a glimpse of Oliver quickly rubbing at his eyes, wiping away tears. “I wish she could have been here to see you with your sons. To witness the love you and Felicity share.”

“You think she would be happy for me?” Oliver whispers, his voice barely audible.

“Oh, I know she would be.” Walter squeezes his shoulder. “Wherever she is, she probably is right now.”

It’s as Oliver is introducing Walter and Donna to the recruits that Samantha and William show up. William barely spares Felicity a ‘hi, great to see you’ before he’s running off to find the twins, who are now being propped on Rene and Rory’s laps on the couch.

Samantha scowls after him, before turning to Felicity and apologizing, “Sorry, I did remind him about manners in the elevator but he seems to have forgotten them.”

“It’s fine,” she chuckles. “He hasn’t seen them in, what -” she checks the time, “Fourteen hours? He must be desperate.”

Samantha closes the door behind her, and follows Felicity to the kitchen to get a drink. Remembering that the woman likes white wine, the blonde pours her a short glass, opting for grape juice for herself since she’s breastfeeding. “He’s eased into his big brother role effortlessly,” Samantha says. “It’s impressive how quickly he’s adapting, really.”

“He’s a smart kid, he reacts to change by accommodating it.” Felicity leans back against the counter, observing Thea chat animatedly with Donna and Walter, as Evelyn and Dinah listen in with amusement. Oliver is having a conversation with John and Curtis on the other side of the room, keeping an eye on his three sons. “You’ve been adapting well too. It’s only been a month, and you’ve fully settled into life in Star City.”

“It’s much more hectic than life in Central and everywhere else we lived in Witsec, but I think I prefer it like that,” Samantha muses. “I think Will prefers it as well. It’s good for him, living so close to his father. He’s never really needed a dad, but I think being around Oliver has made him realize how much he wants one. I’m just going to check in with Thea, if that’s okay. I left some documents with her last night that I want her opinion on.”

“By all means,” Felicity motions her away with a smile.

Oliver is putting the lasagnas into the oven when Quentin arrives with the Legends - or some of them. Sara and Ray are the only ones attending, but only because an emergency came up with an anachronism that the others have to deal with. Sara doesn’t hesitate to tease Felicity relentlessly about getting her man, and laughs alongside her as they watch Ray stare at Lucas and Tommy wide-eyed, freezing in alarm when Tommy is placed on his lap. He’s acting as if he’s never seen a baby before in his life.

“How’s the big guy doing?” Quentin questions, as Felicity fetches him a glass of lemon and lime soda. “He coping well with the newborn baby stress?”

“Double stress, with two of them,” Felicity replies. “But he’s doing well. He’s incredible with them.”

“He was seriously freaking out about becoming a father, but he’s a natural at it,” Quentin nods, casting a glance over to where Oliver is correcting Ray on how to hold Tommy. “Being a parent looks good on him.” He smiles at her warmly. “It looks good on you both.”

“Thanks, Quentin.”

“Oh, hey, I have a gift for you.” He stands up straighter to pull a small box out of his inside pocket. “I know it’s Oliver’s birthday and a party for the twins and all, but I figured… what the hell. Might as well give this to you now.” He pauses, taking a heavy breath and exhaling, as if he’s nervous. “Right. So, er - there’s this tradition in the Lance family, where the guy in the grandparent position gives the new mom a present, to commemorate the birth of their first kid. You know, a sort of, good luck for the future, sort of thing. And, uh… I guess what I’m trying to say is that I kind of see you as a daughter, Felicity. Maybe it’s inappropriate but -”

“Quentin,” she interrupts his anxious ramble. He stops, grimacing. Smiling encouragingly, Felicity prompts, “I see you as a father figure. I know Oliver does too. It’s not inappropriate.”

“Great! Great. So, um…” He flounders again, but then finally just decides to hand her the box. “Here.”

Felicity opens it delicately. Inside, nestled in a bed of velvet, is a silver bracelet with four heart charms on it. Each of the charms is engraved with initials: OQ, FS, LSQ, and TSQ. It’s touching, and personal. Tearing up, the blonde peers up at Quentin, who is still looking at her in trepidation, as if unsure what her reaction is going to be.

“I, er, thought about getting a charm with William’s initials, but thought we should probably check if that’s okay with him and his mom first,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Quentin.”

“Yeah?”

“This is amazing. Thank you so much. This means so much to me.” She pulls him in for an appreciative hug, which he receives with a huge sigh of relief. “Help me put it on?”

Quentin attaches the clasp for her with suspiciously wet eyes, and accepts another short embrace before muttering about going to catch up with Walter, obviously embarrassed by the blatant show of affection. Pleased that the party is going well so far, Felicity sidles up to Oliver, who is observing Ray like a hawk as he passes Tommy over to Sara, wrapping her arms around his side and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He smiles down at her and brushes his own kiss against her forehead, his hand coming up to stroke down her back.

“Dad gave it to you, then,” Sara says, nodding down at her wrist with her new accessory. “Thought he was gonna chicken out. He was pretty nervous in the car talking about it.”

“What’s this?” Oliver asks curiously.

Felicity waves and wiggles her wrist, grinning when the archer catches it lightly, turning her hand over so he can examine the bracelet. “Gift from Quentin. It’s your birthday, but I’m the one getting presents.”

Oliver thumbs the charms, his lips ticking up into a small, wistful smile. “That’s very sweet of him.”

“I know. He said that I’m like a daughter to him. Maybe it’s too early to think about it, but I was thinking that he could -” she cuts herself off, biting her tongue. _Walk me down the aisle_ , she was going to say, but Sara and Ray don’t know about their engagement yet. Judging by the twinkling in Ray’s eyes and the way Sara winks at her though, Felicity thinks they must suspect. They’re time-travelers, after all.

In Sara’s arms, Tommy starts whimpering, sensing his mother is close and getting annoyed that he’s not being held by her. The Legend hands the baby over to Felicity, who throws the blanket Oliver offers her over her shoulder before placing Tommy there, to make sure her dress doesn’t get spit up on. She casts a wary glance around the room to find her other son - but Lucas is safe and sound on William’s shoulder, having fallen asleep on his big brother. Her mom is sneaking photos of them from the side, finding the behavior adorable.

Lyla turns up soon after that, which surprises both Felicity and Oliver, as she told them she would be busy with ARGUS work all evening. She can’t stay long, but came to drop off the twins’ and Oliver’s birthday presents. She also came to apparently witness the pay-up of a certain bet. She calls over her husband, who rolls his eyes with a grumpy look as he fishes an unmarked envelope out of his pocket.

Felicity accepts it bemusedly, even more bewildered when she opens it up to find fifty dollars inside. “What’s this for?”

“You got the genders right,” John says. “It was twin boys. I bet fifty dollars it was gonna be a boy and a girl. I owed you money.”

Felicity bursts out laughing, and her gut aches with the force of it. Oliver has to catch her around the waist to stop her from folding over and stretching her half-healed C-section scar. “Oh my god, seriously?”

“Yeah. I’m a secure guy, I can accept when I’m wrong.”

She offers the envelope full of money back. “Keep it,” she chuckles. “For three months, _it was_ a boy and a girl.”

“What?” John looks confused.

“Dr Schwartz misgendered them at the second ultrasound,” Oliver explains, equally amused. “She told us we were having a boy and a girl. It was only after the bunker fiasco when an ARGUS doctor gave Felicity an ultrasound to check up on the twins that we found out that we were having two boys. We wanted to keep it a secret from everybody when we found out the genders in January so we wouldn’t have to pay you immediately, because we hoped you’d forget about the bet.”

“Man, you two are the worse!” John laughs.

“We think we can make it up to you,” Felicity says, sneaking a glance at Oliver, who nods.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Oliver and I want godparents for the twins to share, and we’d love it if you and Lyla agreed,” she smiles shyly.

John’s expression is ecstatic. Lyla mirrors his excitement. “Are you kidding? Of course! It would be an honor!”

Team Flash arrive just in time for dinner, as Oliver is getting the lasagnas and garlic bread out of the oven. Not all of them have come - Barry, Iris, Cisco and Caitlin, and judging by their windswept appearances, they took the speedster highway instead of the train, which Barry sheepishly admits they missed. Iris and Caitlin are entranced by the twins and Barry whispers to Felicity that Iris keeps shooting him these puppy dog looks - the baby fever is catching.

Felicity is immensely amused by her mother and Walter’s taken-back expressions, as they seem puzzled at the wide and rather strange selection of friends at the party. With Team Arrow, Team Flash, and two Legends attending, they are quite a remarkable bunch of people. Oliver’s lucky that he prepared so much food, because with over fifteen adults in the Loft, not much is going to be left over. Barry eats an entire lasagne himself, and Felicity ends up sliding a pizza into the oven for him as well, when he starts eyeing up the garlic breads; speedster metabolisms are a nightmare.

Felicity settles down with Tommy and Lucas on her shoulders once dinner is finished, scanning the Loft and everybody in it. Walter is locked in a conversation with the Diggles and their resident time-travelers; Team Flash is chatting with the recruits and William, who seems ecstatic to finally be meeting his favorite hero (much to Oliver’s exasperation); Quentin is having an awkward encounter with Donna, which Thea is trying to umpire. Oliver is in the corner talking with Samantha, no doubt making arrangements for William to stay over at the weekend.

“This is the happiest I’ve seen you and Oliver in a while,” Barry comments, making Felicity jump when he takes a seat beside her.

“We’re surrounded by our friends and family,” Felicity smiles. “Oliver likes to put on this lone wolf, solitary vigilante act, but he’s always at his best when he’s being supported, both out in the field and emotionally.”

“You’ve both changed,” Barry says thoughtfully. “Even since the whole Dominator incident before Christmas… you both seem…”

“It was impossible for us to stay apart,” Felicity sighs. “We were trying to, but it was inevitable that we would end up being drawn back together.”

“You’re soulmates, that’s why.” The speedster’s eyes flicker down to the two infants who are now snoozing on the blonde’s chest. “Can I…?”

She eyes him suspiciously. “As long as you don’t go back in time and change their genders.”

Barry huffs out a strained chuckle. “Yeah, I think Oliver would kill me if I tried something like that.” He pulls back, crossing his arms insecurely. “Maybe not, then, just in case.”

“Good call,” Felicity says. “Oliver is glaring at you right now.”

Barry glances behind him, and lo and behind, Oliver is hitting him with the full force of the Green Arrow glower, silently ordering him to stay away from his babies. Felicity knows that it’s partially meant in jest, but the speedster meekly slips away, not wanting to get shot with more arrows in his back. Felicity watches him leave with a smirk, before turning back to her fiancé and raising her eyebrow. Oliver nods, and making sure nobody spots him, taps his ring finger. It’s time for them to announce their engagement.

Thea and Evelyn help hand out champagne flutes around the room, with Rory expertly opening the bottles without any explosions going on. If Walter and Donna weren’t here, Felicity is pretty sure Oliver would be insisting on opening them himself, with his old shooting-the-cork-out trick. Nobody seems to suspect a thing, obviously thinking the champagne is for Oliver’s birthday speech, or for them to celebrate the twins turning one month old. Little do they know that Oliver has a much bigger announcement to make.

“Thank you all for coming tonight, to celebrate my birthday and the twins,” Oliver starts, taking Lucas from Felicity to hold on his shoulder instead of a glass of sparkling. He’s elected not to drink as long as Felicity can’t because she’s breastfeeding. “It means so much to Felicity and I that you would all come out here, some of you traveling across oceans -” he smiles at Walter, “some of you across deserts -” he winks at Donna, “and some of you from much, much further away -” he looked pointedly at the Legends, “- to be here to wish our family well. It’s so strange to think that just under a year ago, both Felicity and I were terrified because we weren’t together, but she was pregnant, and our lives were just… so chaotic. But Tommy and Lucas inadvertently brought the two of us back together, to overcome our issues and establish that our love is greater than any problem we’ll possibly have to face.” He turns to stare at Felicity, his eyes filled with adoration. “Felicity, love is too small a word to describe how I feel about you. And no matter who we both are, or who we become, no matter how our lives change or are changed… you will always be the love of my life.”

Tears in her eyes, she nods in acceptance of her words, trying to convey with her eyes that _I love you too, and I always will._

Oliver turns back towards the gathered crowd, pride and excitement lining his voice as he continues, “Which is why I’m overjoyed to announce that Felicity and I are engaged.”

The room erupts in thunderous applause. Team Flash and the Legends are cheering, punching the air, while the recruits whistle in support. The sudden explosion of sound makes the twins jolt on Felicity’s chest, Tommy crying out, which quickly causes silence to fall, as everybody claps much more quietly, embarrassed to have woken the babies.

William rushes up to help with his little brothers, taking Lucas from Oliver so that the archer and Felicity can concentrate on calming down Tommy. Once he’s happy and content again, they pass him off to Caitlin and Cisco, who take him over to the couches to play with the rattle they bought for him. Once their hands are free of the twins, Oliver and Felicity able to hug and receive congratulations from everybody. Felicity laughs when Donna jumps up and down with her excitement, rambling about how she knew this was going to happen, and how they’re so perfect for each other.

It’s as Oliver is leading everybody off to the kitchen to cut his giant birthday cake that Felicity catches Ray and Sara whispering to each other near the balcony doors, separated from the group. She frowns curiously and turns an ear towards them, trying not to make it appear too evident that she’s eavesdropping on them.

“Hey, so Oliver and Felicity have had the twins, they’re engaged - that just means they have to have Mia, and we’re on track for the future, right?” Ray murmurs.

Sara hisses at him. “Shh, keep your voice down.”

“You’re the one who said we needed to see how the twins being born and them getting married earlier affects the timeline. Mia’s too important for the future.”

“Yeah, and the timeline stays the same, so long as they have their daughter in 2019 as usual. Now stop talking, we can’t let anybody overhear!”

Felicity tries to run that over in her head again, shellshocked. Mia? She and Oliver have a _daughter_ , in 2019? That’s only two years away! Maybe the Legends are discussing an alternate future - an anachronism of sorts? - but it didn’t sound like it. Stunned beyond belief - and actually a little bit excited - she debates whether or not she should share this information with Oliver, but then decides that there’s no need right now. She certainly wasn’t meant to learn that piece of intel - if she keeps it to herself, it will affect the timeline less, right? God, she’s getting dizzy just thinking about this.

Wow. A _daughter_. A little sister for the twins and William.

Mia Smoak-Queen.

She’s definitely not sleeping tonight.

“You okay?” Iris asks her, coming up from behind with two plates of cake - one of which must be for Barry, because it’s a piece that could feed five people. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, just a little hot in here,” she lies, light-headed.

“Really? You’re pale, not flushed. You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

“I’m fine,” she waves off. “Iris, if you see Oliver again, tell him I’m just getting some air on the balcony please?”

“I’ve got you, sis.”

The evening’s cold breeze is refreshing and helps Felicity clear her head, relaxing her. Gazing out over the city with the diluted, fuzzy sounds of the traffic on the main streets a couple of blocks away washing over her, Felicity closes her eyes and leans out slightly over the balcony, bracing her forearms against the railing. She can hear the muted sounds of conversation and chuckles from the party behind her; hear William’s delighted giggles as he interacts with his little brothers, her mother’s enthusiastic voice as she chats with the recruits about future wedding plans, John’s rumble of laughter as Barry accidentally knocks over his own drink.

She senses Oliver approaching her from behind, so doesn’t startle when he winds his arms around her waist, kissing the edge of her ear gently as he nuzzles at her neck. “Samantha’s teaching William how to change Lucas’ diaper,” he murmurs. “Lucas tried to pee on him, but luckily Samantha was there with a towel to block it. His aim is pretty good.”

“That’s what you're proud of?” she says breathily, swallowing and arching her neck when her fiancé’s lips trail up her throat. “That your son’s inherited your good aim, so can pee on his older brother?”

“I’d be proud of Lucas even if he had awful aim,” Oliver chuckles into her skin. “But it was amusing to see the look on William’s face when Lucas got him on his mouth.”

“Tommy?”

“Is enjoying a meal in Lyla’s arms. He got a bit upset it wasn’t coming from you, and it took him a couple of minutes to adjust to the bottle, but he’s happy now. Very drowsy. He’ll probably fall asleep in her arms; Lyla said she’ll put him down for us.” Oliver twists her in his arms, pressing their fronts together and anchoring their hips. “What’s up? Iris said you were looking overwhelmed and came out here to take a break.”

Felicity exhales slowly, tilting her head as she glances him over. For a moment, she seriously considers telling him, but instead decides to ask hesitantly, “Oliver, have you thought about having more kids?”

The easy smile on Oliver’s face drops. He regards her worriedly, calculatingly. “Where did this come from?” he asks carefully.

“Nothing. Nowhere in particular. Just me… wondering if you’d like more children.”

“Did your mother say something…?” he questions, puzzled.

“No. I honestly just want to know.”

“Okay.” Oliver looks cautious, frown lines creasing his forehead. “Well, I’m really happy with our family being you, me, Lucas, Tommy and William for now. Three boys is already a lot to deal with, and we haven’t fully learned how to raise our sons yet. Let’s be honest - they’re going to be running circles around us. William is already incredibly smart, and with Smoak genes in their DNA, the twins are going to be challenging us as toddlers. But that’s not to say that I wouldn’t be unhappy if we had another baby in the future. I’d love our family to be a big one.”

“Would you like a daughter?” _Two years, 2019, Mia Smoak-Queen._

“Felicity, where is this coming from?”

“Please. Just. Answer the question.”

He eyes her suspiciously, and his voice is taught and guarded as he replies, “The idea of having a mini Felicity Smoak running around in the future is a lovely one.” He pauses and admits quietly, “I was a little disappointed when it turned out both the twins were boys. I wouldn’t give up Lucas or Tommy for anything in the world now, but I was looking forward to having a little girl. Yeah, I suppose I’d like us to have a daughter, in a good couple of years time.”

She nods, finally relaxing. Felicity feels relieved for some reason. She was terrified that Oliver was going to say no, because in the last ten minutes since she found out that there’s a potential they’ll have a baby girl in the future, she’s been imagining so many things. A small girl with blonde pigtails and Oliver’s blue eyes, sitting on top of her father’s shoulders. Their daughter being taught by her dad and Uncle John how to kickbox down in the bunker. Days out in the park where William, Lucas, and Tommy help their little sister climb the monkey bars for the first time.

“Felicity?”

She peers up at Oliver through her lashes. “Yes?”

“Do you want a daughter?”

She pauses, unsure, but then nods. “Not yet. We’re not ready. But in the future… maybe.”

He smiles, raising his hand to cup and caress her cheek tenderly. “Okay. I don’t know why hearing me say yes to that question was so important to you, but if you’re saying yes, I definitely am.” Glancing back towards the party, the archer adds, “We should probably get back to our guests.”

She sighs. She was thoroughly enjoying this peaceful, quiet moment between them. “You’re right.”

“I suppose they can wait one more minute,” Oliver determines, breaking away from her to duck inside, only to come out with two champagne flutes.

Felicity quirks an eyebrow, but leaning down to sniff at the contents reveals that it’s grape juice, not anything alcoholic. When he offers one of the flutes to her, she sees something hanging off his pinky, which is curled to stop it from falling off. Her heart gives one long thump as tears fill her eyes. It’s her engagement ring. The diamond and emeralds are shimmering in the lights reflecting through the glass.

“Put it on?” he requests shyly. “Just for tonight… and maybe tomorrow. I was thinking you could wear it at home and just take it off for when we’re in public.”

She slides it off his pinky and onto her ring finger. It’s a new ring and it feels that way, cold and a little awkward for now, but she knows she’ll get used to it. In fact, as she peers down at her hand, Felicity reckons that she won’t be able to imagine her hand without it now.

The archer entwines their fingers of their non-dominant hands, resting them on the balcony railing. Raising his flute, he toasts, “To the future.”

Felicity smiles, bouncing up onto her tip-toes to kiss him softly. He kisses her back, his lips gentle against her own in such a way that the blonde can feel Oliver’s love for her. “To the future,” she whispers, clinking her glass against his.

“May it be a bright and happy one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all SO much for reading this fic.... I really, really hope you've enjoyed it, from start to finish.
> 
> I would really, really appreciate it if you left kudos and a comment, to let me know your overall thoughts and your experience reading xx
> 
> **REMEMBER THE EPILOGUE IS BEING POSTED TOMORROW. IT WILL BE SET IN OCTOBER 2019.**
> 
> **Little spoiler...**


	13. Epilogue (October 2019)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR COMING ON THIS JOURNEY WITH ME!!!!!!

Felicity lies exhaustedly in her and Oliver’s bed in their Bloomfield cabin, having just suffered through fourteen hours of intense labor without any painkillers, and only an ARGUS midwife to help. It was too risky to go to the hospital with the Ninth Circle still searching for their family, so she’d been forced to undertake a natural birth, despite being quite high risk. Oliver held her hand the entire time, coaching her through her contractions - the blonde reckons she wouldn’t have made it through it without him.

She watches through half-lidded eyes with a tired yet overjoyed smile as her husband cradles their tiny newborn baby girl, Mia Smoak-Queen, to his shirtless chest while Felicity delivers the afterbirth. Oliver’s scrubs t-shirt ended up covered in gunk during their daughter’s birth itself, but the baby doesn’t seem to mind. She’s very new and barely knows anything in the world, after all.

Mia’s fifteen minutes out of the womb, having just had her umbilical cord clamped and snipped by her father and cleaned off with a damp washcloth. The infant is coiled up, her face scrunched as she adjusts to the environment, and yet she doesn’t cry, content to rest on the archer’s skin. Tears in his eyes, Oliver leans over to kiss Felicity softly, curling up on the bed bedside her so that she can stroke her fingers over their daughter’s tiny pale hand.

“Hi, Mia,” she whispers, her throat thick. “It’s so good to finally meet you, honey.”

Oliver very gently passes the newborn over to the midwife, who swaddles her in a mint green blanket before placing the baby on Felicity’s front, on top of the blanket covering her torso. The sheer amount of adoration and awe in the archer’s eyes as he peers down at their daughter is enough to bring Felicity to tears again.

“She’s wonderful,” Oliver says, his voice trembling.

“Our little star,” Felicity agrees. “Our shining light in the darkness.”

“I’m gonna go get the boys,” he murmurs, kissing the back of her hand. “I’ll just be a second.”

Vanishing for a brief second out the bedroom door, Oliver returns with their twin two-year old sons on both his hips. Both of the boys have similar features: Oliver’s dimples and chin, Felicity’s cheekbones and soft blue eyes. It’s quite easy to tell them apart though, as Lucas is taller and has a shock of bright golden hair, while Tommy is a little stouter, with hazel brown locks. Lucas is cuddling up with his father nervously, face pressed into his shoulder; Tommy, on the other hand, is simply vibrating with excitement, already squirming in Oliver’s arms, trying to get down.

Felicity adjusts Mia on her chest so that she’s not in Tommy’s direct running line, because she can already predict what’s going to happen. The little evasive ninja that he is, Tommy manages to squirm out of his father’s grasp, preparing to sprint and leap onto the bed - only to be grasped from behind by William, Oliver’s fourteen-year-old who has been helping babysit the twins while Felicity was in labor this weekend.

“Slow down there, bud,” William laughs, swinging Tommy up onto his back. “You don’t wanna go crashing into Felicity and accidentally hurt your baby sister, do you?”

“I wanna see her!” Tommy squeals. “I wanna see Mia!”

“Okay, but you’ve got to be slow and careful, Tommy,” Oliver tells him gently. “Mia is very small and fragile.”

“Gentle,” Lucas says, his voice muffled because of how he’s stuck his hand into his mouth.

Oliver pulls his hand down, wiping it on the boy’s pajama shirt patiently. “Exactly.” He sets Lucas down, and then nods at William to release Hurricane Tommy.

The twins clamber up onto the end of the bed and crawl to Felicity’s side, as she watches them amusedly. Her boys never hesitate to bring life to the party. She ruffles Lucas’ hair fondly when he releases a faint anxious noise. Tommy’s eyes immediately widen upon seeing the baby.

“Whoa. She’s tiny!” Tommy exclaims.

“That’s because she’s just been born,” William explains to him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Lucas decides he’d much rather sit on his big brother’s lap than the bed. “I that small?” he asks curiously.

“Believe it or not, you and Tommy were even smaller when you were both born,” Oliver replies with a chuckle, lifting Tommy up so he can sit on the bed too, the toddler beside him. “I could hold you in one hand.”

Tommy holds up one of his little hands in front of his face with an expression of wonder. No doubt he’s trying to imagine how small he was, compared to his own hand. “Wow.”

Lucas folds over so he can cock his head, examining his little sister up close. “Hi, Mia,” he says quietly. He reaches out to touch her, and then hesitates, looking up at his dad worriedly. Felicity thinks it’s adorable how cautious he’s being. When Oliver gives him the go ahead, he touches the top of his finger to Mia’s cheek - and immediately gasps, pulling back. When nothing happens beyond Mia exhaling, Lucas shuffles closer to trace his finger around her face softly, mapping her forehead, eyes, nose, and mouth.

“You like your sister?” Felicity asks, sweeping Lucas’ fringe back from his face.

“Uh huh.”

“My turn!” Tommy whines.

He shuffles forward confidently, reaching out to touch, but then stops, an expression of fear coming over his face. Felicity opens her mouth to reassure him, but doesn’t need to speak. Lucas takes his brother’s hand within his own and guides it carefully to Mia’s face, helping his twin make first contact with their baby sister. Mia emits a soft sound, making Tommy jump, but then he grins brilliantly.

Turning around, he lunges to grab William’s hand. “Will too!”

Laughing at Tommy’s antics, William obliges him and strokes down Mia’s side.

“Sister,” Lucas hums.

“Yeah, she’s your baby sister,” Oliver smiles.

Felicity closes her eyes, content. Mia fusses a little before settling, apparently just as fatigued as she is. Sensing how exhausted they must be. William suggests to the twins that they go and get their father’s cell phone, so they can call their family members about their sister. Felicity can only imagine how everybody is going to react, especially as they kept the pregnancy a secret to protect Mia from the Ninth Circle. John and Lyla are the only ones who know she exists. Her mother might self-destruct. Thea is going to be ecstatic to have a niece. Evelyn is going to want to fly straight home from Cambridge, where she's studying at MIT, so she can meet her little sister. Their other team members and friends will be shocked beyond relief, but also excited for them.

The midwife, who stepped back earlier to let them have their family moment, approaches Oliver with their daughter’s birth certificate, so he can fill it in. Once everything is signed and dated, they've officially welcomed their daughter, Mia Emily Smoak-Queen, into the world. Felicity wonders if she could be counted as pre-destined, after she heard Ray and Sara talking about their daughter two years ago.

“Hey.” Felicity glances over at Oliver, who is watching her interestedly. “What are you thinking about?”

“How perfect our family is,” she answers simply, brushing her hand down Mia’s back.

“She’s our beautiful little princess,” the archer whispers. His fingers play with the tuft of blonde hair on the infant’s head. Felicity can already imagine that hair growing longer, naturally wavy. “Look at her eyes.”

While Tommy and Lucas were both born with blue eyes - Lucas has retained them, while Tommy’s have darkened to a light hazel - Mia has stunningly green eyes, which Felicity knows is very uncommon for newborns. “She’s special, alright.”

The twins rush back in with William at their heels, waving Oliver’s cell phone. The archer picks them both up, making them name every member of their family so they can decide who they want to call first.

Felicity smiles, her heart full. She has her husband, three sons, and newborn daughter here with her, safe and healthy and living their best lives. She couldn’t ask for anything more.

_A bright and happy future, indeed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that's it :) little wonders has been completed. there will be more side oneshots posted in time falls away in the future, though, so the verse isn't going to vanish for good.
> 
> since this is the last posting for this fic, i would REALLY, REALLY APPRECIATE it if you commented :) please? tell me your favourite chapter, your favourite part of the fic, what your favourite change to canon was etc. seriously, i would LOVE it x

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Please leave kudos and comment :)
> 
> Tumblr: @alexiablackbriar13  
> Twitter: @lexiblackbriar


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